SW Ep V: Jedi Assassin
by L.C. Lane
Summary: Sequel to 'Dark Assassin.' AU: Vader hunts the Specter while he leads a team with Han, Ghost, Fade and Noc to Fondor to destroy the new super-ship. Leia establishes the base on Hoth while the Jedi decide how they will topple the Sith. But when Fett tracks Han to Bespin and Luke's visions guide him to face Vader, will he go as an assassin, or a 'new kind of Jedi? Mara, OC's & Mace.
1. Chapter 1: Command

**A/N:** Well folks, here we are! Welcome to Ep. V! I hope you all are as excited as I am I'm totally quivering like a dork right now, geekin' out to the Nth power, but that's okay! And for those of you who've been clamoring for Mara Jade…she's in here! Woot, right? Onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.1— Command _

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

Vader knelt before the most feared man in the galaxy, Darth Sidious, more universally known as the Emperor, in one of his many throne rooms on Coruscant.

Vader hoped whatever had made Palpatine summon Vader from his watch-post on the Fondor shipyards would be a quick and decisive matter.

He had kept a vigil at Fondor now for many months; waiting for his future apprentice to arrive to destroy Vader's new super-class destroyer, which was nearly competed.

His future apprentice, the most terrifying assassin in existence: the dread-inspiring Specter.

The Specter, who had swathed a path of Imperial deaths and matchless destruction long enough to span the galaxy itself a couple times over…and was naught more than a mere boy.

A mere boy with incomprehensive skills, intelligence—and Force sensitivity.

The boy was touched by the Force; more to the point, he was alive with it, like a brilliant star of flesh, bone and gushing with Force potential.

Force potential Palpatine would never bend to his will, because Vader had every intention of claiming the boy first.

"You will take command of the Imperial Death Squadron from Admiral Piett and uncover the rebels' new base," the Emperor said at length, staring out the immense, gold-framed window to the glittering spires of the city below, "our operatives have informed us that the rebels have cleared the last of their numbers from their previous central fortification and are now established at some new location—which they have not been able to discover."

"But they were able to locate the temporary refuge the rebels fled to after Yavin?" Interesting; why was Vader learning of this only now?

His own spies would be 'addressed' about this later on.

"Indeed." The other Sith's tone was thin with barely repressed anger.

Vader knew better than to press; firstly, he didn't want to inadvertently confess he knew nothing about this matter until now; secondly, Palpatine wasn't above inflicting Sith lightning on his apprentice when Vader displeased him in any way.

The dark lord could still feel the painful effects of Palpatine's…displeasure when Vader brought the news of the Death Star's obliteration.

The Emperor's time would come, Vader promised himself again; events were now in motion that would make this inevitable.

Vader had to only wait.

"I want this rebellion finished," Palpatine quietly, darkly avowed, the reflection of his poisonous yellow eyes narrowing on the glass, "it has grown beyond what ought to have been possible already."

And Vader knew why: the Specter. New rebels were rallying to the one who had a fired the deciding shot of the Yavin battle. He was beacon of hope for the rebellion, for all worlds everywhere seeking to cast off Imperial rule. Secret wishes were now being acted upon on worlds all over the Empire because the Specter had proven the Empire was not all-powerful.

One boy had dealt them a deadly blow; surely Palpatine realized by now why: the boy's immense Force power.

"The rebels have been vigorously campaigning all over the galaxy," Vader replied at length, "our spies have reported the princess in particular"—

"Senator Organa's daughter is not our main concern," Palpatine snapped, turning at last to face his apprentice, "as you well know, Lord Vader."

Vader was silent, not wishing to betray his hand.

"The boy who destroyed my battle station must be found…and made an example of," the ruler finished, the glint of vengeance flaring his toxic gaze, "therefore, Lord Vader, you will find the boy…and bring him to me."

Vader's stomach fell. No; somehow Palpatine must realize he had his own plans for the child.

Two fighters crushed with one shot; typical of the old man.

Not only would Vader's own plans be erased, but Vader would be used to thwart his own machinations.

But Vader was not so easily outdone. He had reached the end of his kneeling days; again, he wordlessly swore it.

It was his destiny to sit the throne now…with the Specter kneeling before him, asking his bidding.

Palpatine turned back to regard the city again. "COMPOR has just completed an updated version of the probe droid. Take all that have been constructed thus far and send them into the reaches of the galaxy. Once we attend to their new base, I want the leaders captured alive as well. One or two rebel leaders killed would be martyrs…but all of them at once will be a mortal-blow to rebel morale. Without their precious leadership they'll be scattered and lacking direction. Inner factions will form and do the rest. The rebels' own ambitions and foolishness will utterly wipe them out. But the princess, the pilot and the others…will be brought here to face my judgment."

"Yes my master."

"And have no anxiety over your ship, Lord Vader," the Emperor suddenly added, his tone casual and reassuring—too casual and too reassuring, Vader thought—"I have sent many agents to Fondor already. They will protect the super-ship."

"As you wish, master."

Vader rose, Palpatine waved him away.

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As Vader walked the long corridors of the Emperor's palace, Vader struggled to not brood.

Palpatine was sending him to hunt the rebel leadership, the insolent princess and the rest, but surely not Specter.

Instinct had been whispering to Vader for months since Yavin that the formidable child was not with the other rebels. His intuition had been validated when his best spies had brought him information that a 'covert rebel group' led by the Specter had been attacking Imperial projects all over the galaxy.

And the projects were all focusing on the same objective: developing new super-weapons.

Apparently Palpatine had not been satisfied with just the Death Star, he had scientist, researchers and the like scattered across isolated worlds, moons, asteroids and such, all striving to create an armada of weapons capable of reducing the galaxy itself to dust.

Vader had been brought word of goals such as the Sun Crusher, the World Devastators, the Dark-Saber (a sleeker and more compact version of the Death Star), and so on.

Vader let the anger warm him, the blazing rage at Palpatine's demented ambitions driving him to grind his teeth and fight the singular urge to march back into the throne room and impale the twisted old man while he sat on his precious throne.

Palpatine's ambitions had truly consumed him; Vader saw it as yet more evidence the old man's time was on the horizon.

Palpatine had forgotten that the Sith were feared for themselves; their very presence was meant to strike terror into the hearts and minds of all who stood before them. World were meant to recoil from their very approach. But instead, the Emperor was investing the Imperial fortune, resources, talented personnel and so on into these 'endeavors' meant to strike the fear for him.

No; the Emperor must realize on some level his time was drawing to a close and these projects were just a last grab to keep his power a little longer.

What had the Emperor told him so long ago?

'_Those in power fear losing their power'_? Yes.

And he had joined their ranks, apparently.

Vader mulled over their losses as he neared the hanger. The Empire had lost some enterprising minds in the Specter's several -month –'extravaganza' of sabotage and mayhem. The boy had devastated all these projects the past few months; either killing or kidnapping the top figures heading up the projects: Qwi Xux had been a particular loss, Vader knew. According to the reports, the Specter had abducted her after demolishing the secret installation where Xux had been crafting new weapons. All records of her work had been wiped out as well; the Empire had nothing left of its costly investment in her, or the Maw Installation, which had been utterly shattered by the Specter's own super-weapons.

The boy had razed every installation to ash, no survivors at any project, no intact Intel, nothing.

The boy was disturbingly efficient; it was one of the many skills Vader had come to admire in him.

The boy was unstintingly ruthless and effective; great raw material for nurturing a new Sith Lord.

An aide greeted Vader with a bow as the dark lord approached his shuttle.

"I will rendezvous with the Avenger at once."

"Yes, milord."

Well; Palpatine could play his games. Surely if he 'sent agents' Jade was among them. If Specter did make an appearance at Fondor, it would be a perfect test of his worthiness to face the Hand. If he could defeat the Emperor's top agent (and Vader had no doubt he would), then it would be worth all of Vader's work in capturing him.

And knowing his beloved Hand lost to a rebel boy would rankle the old man to no end—

Which would entertain Vader to no end.

He let out a contented sigh, which was smothered by the shuttle's whine as it prepped for take-off.

He'd have to remember to thank the boy for all of the amusement he'd provided these past months since Yavin; first the Emperor's pet Death Star, then the super-weapons initiative, and imminently Jade.

Palpatine did have much reason to long for vengeance against the child; Vader admitted.

But that didn't mean he'd allow it.

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Palpatine watched as his 'loyal' apprentice departed, the Crimson Gaurds on either side of the double doors not even twitching as Vader passed them.

The Emperor let out a soft, low breath, his expression darkening.

So; Vader had plans of his own it seemed. How…not surprising.

It was the traditional dance of the Sith: one to embody the power, the other to crave it.

However, Palpatine was not about to go the way of Plagueus, not now…or ever.

Palpatine would endure the ages, all of them, as the Galactic ruler.

However, Vader's purposefulness was reaching its end. For now, his apprentice would hunt the Jedi, hunt the rebels and bring the rebel pilot to him.

The rebel pilot…who was Force-sensitive—and would serve as Vader's replacement.

After all, the boy had proven himself worthy of conversion; and as reports revealed to Palpatine's wonderment that the 'rebel' pilot was in fact, a boy supposedly related to the impudent smuggler Han Solo…it was easy enough to see through the façade.

Ergo, what he had felt on the Death Star, when Vader faced the Specter and breeched the brat's armor, revealing his power, there was no effort needed to link the two together.

And when the 'official' records provided a holo-pic of the smuggler's 'cousin' showing a boy that would be the right age to be both the Specter and the pilot, the brown hair and eyes did not fool Palpatine.

The records were just imperfect enough to be false; 'Luke Solo' then had blonde hair and blue eyes.

So, there was no doubt he was the same boy from the vision; the one who'd trashed a portion of Palpatine's castle.

The boy, a Force-gifted assassin- what intriguing material to mold a new apprentice from.

Palpatine grinned; he did so love a challenge. He reached for Mara Jade.

She was instantly responsive, as always: _What is your wish, my master?_

_Child, I have sent Vader to fetch me the rebel leadership. That leaves the Specter to you. _

He sensed her nod in understanding. She was as aware of Vader's treachery as he.

_Child, I have foreseen the assassin-boy will arrive at Fonder soon; but he will not come alone._

_I shall deal with them all, master, I will not fail you._

He could clearly feel her determination, making him smile. Her devotion was so pleasing.

_I do not doubt you, child; however, I want his companions captured alive as well. Therefore, I have sent other agents to assist you. _

She tried to suppress her irritation.

_You disapprove, my Hand?_

_It is not my place to, master._

_Quite so. The agents are not to know your true rank. They are agents; you are to be one of their number. You are allowed to operate separately from them if you like, but do not invoke your status as my Hand for any reason; do you understand?_

_Yes, master._

_Good, report to me should anything develop._

_Yes, master._

He broke the contact, and chuckled as he strode to the doorway.

He had courtiers waiting, after all. A ruler's work was truly never done.

And the diversion would prove entertaining as he pondered exactly how he'd punish the rebel leaders once they were brought to him.

He chuckled again as his Crimson Guard fell into step behind him.

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Mara Jade gritted her teeth.

She hated it, hated it when her master didn't trust her.

Everything she had learned, had strove for, had fought for—had been for him.

And now, on what was probably the most important mission he'd ever granted her, he sends reinforcements.

Mara clutched her blaster tighter; she hated it.

But no, this went against her training; endless lessons on keeping the mind clear had been drilled into her over the years; ever since the Emperor had brought her from…someplace.

But, she'd been taught to not bother contemplating her past; her origins.

They were a only a distraction; her present and future were all that mattered; and those could be summed up in two words: the Emperor.

He was her present, and her future. She lived to serve him; that was her only purpose for existing.

Just as she'd been trained.

And so, she waited.

Her vessel, the _Jade's Fire_, was mostly shut-down, except for life support and the cloaking device that had been recently added for this mission per her master's wishes. A luxury yacht model, her master had it retro-fitted with the most top-level weapons systems the Empire had available—just out of experimental stage, cutting edge, and it was painted in scarlet and gold flames—like her hair.

Mara grinned; it had been a reward for crippling a branch of the Underground. A syndicate called Black Nova—some believed an off-shoot of Black Sun—had attempted a coup to overthrow the Emperor right after Yavin. Mara had assassinated the leaders, bringing their heads back to her master as a gift. So pleased was Palpatine that a few weeks later, he presented her with the ship.

Its elegance and sleek, deadly lines had nearly hypnotized her.

_Use the vessel wisely, Mara; it is my gift to you, _he had gravely said.

Mara swallowed hard as her throat closed. It was no secret that the Emperor dealt out gifts of any kind, much less a ship of this elite caliber lightly.

In fact, now that she considered it, she'd never heard of him presenting such a craft to anyone, ever.

Her teeth ground again; no, that wasn't entirely true.

After all, wasn't she sitting before they very proof of its untruth?

The incredibly long, terrifyingly enormous city-sized destroyer floating in space like a missile aching to be plunged into the very heart of their enemies was for Lord Vader, after all.

A reward…for his failure.

Mara's hard emerald eyes narrowed. A traitor, that's what Vader was. An ambitious Sith Lord who was thoroughly ungrateful to his master for all he had. What did Vader possess that Palpatine didn't give him?

Nothing. His rank, command, men, power, wealth, were all from Palpatine.

And he was seeking to overthrow his master, Mara had no doubt of it. Vader carried the very stench of a betrayer.

Sitting in her pilot's seat, Mara exhaled to calm herself as she watched the shipyard with fine-toothed precision. Her console had subtle scanners taking in every aspect of the ship itself, as well as the command station where the personnel and materials were housed.

If anything, even a gnat moved out of place, she'd know it.

And she knew exactly what she had to do afterwards.

She would prove to the Emperor that she needed no aid in carrying out his will.

She would prove she was worthy of the incredible ship he'd given her.

She would prove she was incapable of failure as his Hand.

And she'd prove she would be sufficient to destroy Vader when her master deemed the time right.

On one of the screens, the tiniest of markers blipped. She reached out as subtly as she could in the Force, feeling a strange, fuzzy…something.

It had to be them!

Mara stood resolutely; cocking her blaster and checking the other weapons on her person.

The Specter had finally arrived.

Time to carry out her master's command.

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**A/N:** Well, kiddos, I hope you liked the opening of 'Jedi Assassin'! I know not a lot of action took place, but I wanted first to lay out what had been going on and get in the minds of some of the key characters so when we get into the thick of everything you'll have a deeper perspective of what's driving everyone. I know I've said it before, but giving the characters psychological depth is keenly vital to me; it's what's lacking from a lot of fics out there, and that added dimension I think can make or break a fic. So, I hope you enjoyed, I'd LUV to hear your thoughts as always, and again, welcome to Ep. V! Ciao for now! Till next time

**Psst. Just few more days till the name change: Eversotd=L.C. Lane.


	2. Chapter 2: Face-Off

**A/N:** Here we go kids! Star Wars isn't mine blah, blah, blah, this is just for fun. Only the OC's are mine and the fun I get from writing this! Onward! Plz review!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.2—Face-Off_

"So, your buddies are sure these weapons are good to go, right?" Han whispered for the 20th time.

He stopped just behind Luke, who was geared up in his black assassin-armor, blaster raised- the signal to halt.

He, Luke, with Chewie close behind came to a corridor's end; Luke checked the adjacent halls before moving on.

They had used Luke's ship, the skiff called Revenant in stealth mode with Han's cargo ship disguised as a well…cargo ship.

Under the guise of 'delivering supplies' to Fondor, complete with false ID tags, codes and all other bells and whistles courtesy of Luke's two laiasons, Link and Mouse, they had altered Han's ship from a very recognizable smuggler's vessel to a very discreet Imperial-standard-issue freighter.

Han's loud objections to 'desecrating' his ship had died when Luke informed him it was his own fault. Han was coming with because Fett had commed Luke threatening him to stand aside so he could bring in Solo to Jabba the Hutt. Han forbade Luke to kill Jabba for fear of a crime war.

So, Luke reminded Han it was his own doing; Han was quiet—till he starting objecting loudly again.

Han's loud objections had died when Luke had subtly reminded him that Leia would be very impressed and pleasantly surprised that Han had contributed to the mission—and who knew how she'd reward him for it.

From that point it was clear Han wanted to object, but then would think about Leia and he'd fall silent.

At least till he started asking Luke if the new rapid-fire-super blasters Link and Mouse had 'made in their spare time,' would actually work.

"Quiet," Luke distractedly said, looking carefully either way.

"Your scanners aren't picking up"—Han started.

"No, but the Empire will have stealth tech on this ship," Luke cut in, only half paying attention to the other man. "Link, Mouse, you there?"

Over his helmet's comm he got them.

"Yeah, boss," came Link's voice.

"Where is everyone?" Luke asked, beginning to feel edgy.

"Our scanners are clear too," Mouse replied, "and…you know our tech is way above the Empire's. The ship is deserted."

Luke hissed. Han softly groaned behind him.

"I smell a trap," the smuggler said.

"Doesn't matter," Luke replied, and Chewie harned in agreement, "we have to get to the main reactor. We make that thing blow, the whole ship goes up." He waved. "C'mon."

As they moved on, Luke's entire body was bunching up in knots. The last five months since Yavin, he and the 'group' had traveled from one side of the galaxy to the other, ferreting out and destroying all of the Empire's super-initiatives. They killed every scientist except Xux—Luke had spared her when Fade looked into her innocent, child-like mind and saw nothing but a naïve dupe—leveled and razed every weapon and installation, hoping to draw Imperial attention away from the super-ship. After all, the super ship was much closer to completion and therefore the greater threat. But, while some Imperial agents had clearly been sent after them, it wasn't the extent that Luke had been hoping for.

He held back the sigh. The fact was, the Empire surely was aware they were targeting this ship, and the lack of personnel meant they didn't want Imperial lives in jeopardy—for once.

That on some level was heartening, ever so slightly.

As they neared the main reactor, the loud hum of the massive construction dispersing and generating energy became more pronounced. Luke took in the cavernous chamber.

The super-ships reactor area was a dizzying high structure, with the bright azure-gold-white bands of energy being siphoned through lit tube-like conduits, readout panels and control gauges every few meters, regulating the power.

Brilliant, state of the art…and a very vulnerable target.

Luke, Han and Chewie stepped closer, scrutinizing the chamber for agents or traps.

Nocturne, the cyber-falcon who had partnered with Luke years ago, was perched on his shoulder, using his own adept equipment to pick out problems.

"Anything Noc?"

Noc only shook his navy-feathered head.

Luke's other partner, the Force Ethereal, Fade, was hovering at his side, her purple cat-eyes narrowed.

_I sense dark blotches in the Force, friend, _she suddenly said.

Luke looked around. "Where?"

_All around us, but it is hard for me to place exactly where._

All around them, black and scarlet-clad figures appeared from behind secret panels, dropped from the ceiling on cables, and rushed in through the various entrances.

"Well," Han said, "I can tell you exactly where they're coming from."

Luke elbowed him.

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Han shook his head as Luke shouted and pushed him behind a control station.

_So, this was how the kid kept people safe, huh?_ Han thought.

He reflexively pulled out his own blaster and returned fire as the kid whipped out those creepy sabers that came out of their sheaths as daggers and then the nano-tech made them 'grow' into lethal long-swords. The kid jumped lithely into the largest concentration of Imps and started cleaving out punishment.

No one crossed the Specter and lived; Han had seen it again and again. The kid was an escaped science experiment some crazy geneticist had tried to put together for some underlord—but the kid had escaped, with the bird and ghost-cat, two other experiments.

Han didn't ever let himself think about what else that mad scientist had been cooking up in that playhouse of his. It was for the best the kid had leveled it to dust and hunted and killed all the survivors.

Some things were better just left alone; making monsters one of them.

One of the Imps shot the blaster from Han's hand. He saw more of them swarm into the chamber as the kid cut, flipped, Force-levitated all sorts of heavy stuff and crushed his opponents under it.

A piece of the wall tore free and a group of 12 or so yelled as Han heard their bones smash under it.

It was a sickening noise; he swallowed, but the kid didn't seem to blink, cutting off a man's head a second later.

Chewie shook him, harning loudly.

"Yeah, I know, the hitch," Han grumbled as he ducked down and prepped the two blasters Link and Mouse had borrowed to him—at his insistence.

He knew they'd encounter no end of hitches once they got here. Hitches followed him like an obsessed ex; never left him alone.

Well, this time, he was ready. He finished punching in the command codes and twisting this knob, pulling that lever and such to 'prep' the blasters.

And then, they…got bigger?

It was crazy, the blasters, suddenly, their parts started contorting, shifting, moving around with weird grating noises, were at the end six times bigger than before!

"All right!" Han yelled gleefully. "Let's test these out!" He yanked them up from the ground, grunting at the weight, and whipped them towards the fight.

"Yeah!" he bellowed. "You want me hitches!? This time, I'm ready!"

Chewie took in the two enormous blasters and harned in dismay, looking at his bow-caster.

Han spun on him. "What do you mean you're not ready?"

Another harn.

"I told you to be ready! Hitches always come for us!"

Chewie made some noises and waved a furry hand.

"What do you mean, they only come for me?"

A blaster bolt skidded by his ear. Luke kicked someone in the face and whirled on Han.

"Han, you idiot! Fire!"

Han gaped angrily. "I am _not_"—

Chewie bellowed.

"Okay! Okay! I'm firing!" He pulled the triggers.

Gatling-style fire erupted from the two mega-blasters shooting in all directions. Imp after Imp toppled over, not reaching cover in time. Only Luke seemed nimble enough to evade getting hit.

Noc dived beneath a console, having hacked into their systems with one of his claws.

And Fade, well, she was nebulous, intangible, so the fire when right through her.

"Ah!" Han shouted, pulling at the various controls on the weapons.

"Han, stop firing!" Luke yelled.

"I can't! I mean! I'm trying! They won't turn off!"

"Duck!" Luke shouted. He ran, stooping, back to Han and Chewie and scooped up Noc before they darted out of the room, crouched down.

No one was alive to pursue them.

Several halls later they paused to regroup and catch their breath.

"What was that!?" Luke demanded, gesturing angrily.

"Hey, don't blame me! It was your buddies' defective hardware"—

"Whoa!" Link said over their comms. "Did that two-credit smuggler just call our stuff 'defective'?!"

Han pointed to his earpiece impatiently. "You two and your no-account"—

A nearby wall blew in just as Fade stiffened—

Luke heard the tell-tale sound of lightsabers being ignited.

He leapt to his feet, brandishing his own blades anew as twenty Sith Inquisitors surrounded them.

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Luke wasted no time leaping onto the nearest desk before doing a high-backwards flip over their new attackers, opening fire as he soared over them.

Some of the blaster bolts were deflected back to him; he blocked them with his vambraces.

He didn't truly expect to deliver harm, but it was a great means to deflect attention off Han and Chewie and onto himself.

He noticed Noc carefully plug into a nearby terminal.

Good bird!

"Ghost! We need backup!" he called.

"_On our way; we just finished with the control center,"_ she reported.

Good, Fondor's actual facility was successfully sabotaged then.

He fought on as Han and Chewie fired into the melee, trying to not hit him.

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Han wondered just how much longer they could do this.

The fact was, without the cat, they would have lost already.

As Luke viciously fought, ripping the floor from beneath the Sith and crushing them in it, Fade would glow with power, before releasing it in brilliant amethyst flashes, stunning the Inquisitors.

The problem was they kept flooding in, sabers held high and robes flowing.

How did the Empire have so many!?

Han clenched his jaw as he fired. "Chewie," he suddenly said, "follow my lead."

After all, this trick worked on the Death Star.

"Hey!" he yelled, standing up, "You Sith wanna a _real_ opponent, I took out Vader's TIE, any of you Sith enough to face _me!?"_

Everyone turned at once to face him.

"Han, are you—?" Luke shouted.

Han gaped at all the yellow eyes impaling him. "Oh," he said and ran for it.

"Ahhhhhhh!" he yelled as he bolted out of the room, over 50 Sith in livid pursuit, sabers waving around angrily.

Chewie wailed as he rushed after them.

"Uh, did I just see that?" Link asked.

Oh yeah, they were uploading the visuals from Luke's helmet.

"Ugh, you did," Luke said, sheathing his blades and pulling out a special set of blasters.

He sprinted after Han, not thinking that Noc was still hidden away.

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Okay, so maybe this wasn't his best idea after all.

Han couldn't stop himself from yelling himself hoarse as he ran faster than he ever did before.

Except the Sith weren't so easily thwarted.

Han didn't realize he had it in him, he'd always assumed that Luke was the agile one, but when they began to rip parts of the wall and floor out with that eerie Force power Luke can do, and toss it his way, he was actually able to dodge, jump over and evade all of it.

Who knew? He'd have to remember to tell Leia about it—if he lived.

The wall blew in ahead of him smoke billowing out.

Ghost and her team.

"Well, it's about time," Han snarked as figures came out of the onyx clouds.

Brown eyes met many sets of…yellow.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting," a Sith sorcerer quipped as she raised her withered hands and blasted Force lightning at him.

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**A/N: **Well, it seems that my penchant for cliffies has not concluded with the previous fic! LOL; please review…c'mon! You're still with me in the sequel, if you haven't reviewed yet I know you must be liking something, or why bother following me? Just a couple words will make this writer VERY happy! Thanks much and till next time!


	3. Chapter 3: Ambush

**A/N:** Hello all! Soooo glad to see so many faves/follows/etc. and REVIEWS! LUV! I'm sooo geeking out over the love this fic has received from just two chapters! You guys are SO epic for all the luv you've shown this fic and even if Disney spends enough to make SW Ep 400, by then I'd still not have time enough to properly thank you all, so, here's my futile attempt at THANKS! And, onward! We've got a battle that is not yet over—and where the heck did Mara go?

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_SW Ep. V: Dark Assassin Ch.3—Ambush_

Mara watched from the rafters overhead, her muscles loose in case necessity arose, her body perfectly balanced to keep her hands free to reach for weapons, and her senses alert.

As a Hand, she permitted nothing to evade her, not targets, nor valuable observations.

Ergo, she was taking the opportunity to learn.

This Specter, he was…interesting. His fighting style was concise and effective, drawing from easily 35 styles that Mara recognized, plus about seven or eight that she didn't, but surely were separate style because he needed to use 'third party' interim moves to make them blend as they did.

Interesting.

Mara had wondered about his armor; Imperial Intel had been totally futile at uncovering any details on it, but from what she could see, it's black synth-like contours were sleek, and obviously able to repel Force lightning (she filed that way for her master), because several of the Sith sorcerers, after one blasted that useless Solo across the room, sending his Wookie rushing to catch him—which he did!—unleashed the lethal tendrils of power at Specter, who deflected most with his own gift—to the shock of many sorcerers, who gaped and gasped—but his suit absorbed the rest.

Absorbed, so if anyone shot his suit with the lightning, it'd actually _fuel_ that…abomination.

Interesting.

But, clearly it was light enough (or him strong enough) that he could still fight with the nimbleness of a true martial artist without the armor encumbering him at all.

Mara waited. She would hold to her word that she wouldn't question her master's judgment in sending these 'reinforcements' which the Specter was now gradually cutting down with his vast array of weapons.

The Force warned her to grab hold of the crossbeams just before the Specter's body leaned back, went rigid—and blasted every sorcerer in front of him!

The entire room shook violently and Mara pasted her body against the rafters, wrapping her legs more tightly around them to keep from falling.

_What was that!?_ She thought.

The sorcerers didn't wait for the room to settle; to their credit, they gathered their powers together to land safely, and joined their lightning all together in one mind-blowing net of purple-cobalt power which thundered throughout the chamber Solo had led them all into before—and then flung their hands at Specter in unison, a tidal wave of blinding death hurling at him.

But they didn't count on the strange ghostly cat that appeared before him, conjuring some sort of shield…that allowed the power to pass through?

No, Mara realized, it was filtering the dark side from the power before it was absorbed by Specter's armor!

Clever feline….

Mara frowned. The Empire had so much to learn about this bizarre group; she had been so poorly debriefed for this encounter.

Ergo, she was letting the reinforcements act as a 'training session' for her. While they battled the assassin and his allies, she watched and was educated.

She wanted to face him informed, or at least as much as possible—and what had been that strange blast from before? It almost had felt like a sonic boom.

But she had seen it come from the Specter. Had his armor generated it?

She smirked; glad now her master had summoned these other agents to 'aid' her.

She wondered now if this had been his true intent all along: let these others fall before the Specter to increase her knowledge and in so doing, her ability to succeed.

He was capable of such things.

But, even so, Mara considered it an honor for those who fell in the Emperor's service. After all, if those so fortunate to be chosen live for him, then what greater privilege would there be than to die for him? It would be, one day, a grand culmination to her life as his dedicated Hand.

She shook her thoughts away, focusing on the young assassin as he continued his deadly work.

Most of the sorcerers were dead; all of the Inquisitors were save two, two more explosions rocked the area to and fro—Mara strengthened her grip anew, just to be certain.

Tall, well armored fighters strode imperiously into the chamber, Specter shouted at Solo and his Wookie to flee….

Hmm, why did it seem that his word choice was…portentous?

Mara got her answer when many compartments in Specter's armor opened at once, releasing perhaps hundreds of tiny explosives.

No, tiny thermal detonators.

The ghost cat grabbed him and they vanished through the floor! No, if Solo and the Wookie were gone by now too it only meant-!

She dived into the nearest air duct as the room erupted in an ocean of incinerating flames.

My but wasn't he ruthless for a 'cowardly' rebel abettor. Not afraid to do what was necessary?

Mara smiled, approving his efficiency.

**XXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They didn't get far before more Sith "everything's" found them.

Luke steadied himself.

He and Fade had met back up with Solo and Chewie a few hallways away and ran to put distance between them and the searing heat leftover from Luke's…parting gift.

"What the hell was that?" Han shouted. "You nearly torched us!"

"What," Luke casually returned, "you never heard of a house warming gift?"

Link and Mouse busted up in their headsets.

"Kid, I'd threaten to kill you," Han too coolly said, "but that'd put me at the end of a way-too-long a line."

Luke put a consoling hand on his shoulder when they stopped. "Don't worry, buddy, it's the thought that counts."

More snickers from the hackers.

"Let's get out of here," Han said and turned.

Sith warriors in armor, sorcerers in dark robes, and miscellaneous agents that Luke recognized as Emperor's Hands, stood in their path.

"Ah, the newest hitch," Han drawled, "right on time."

"Any particular way you wish to die?" a sorcerer asked, raising his weathered hands. Luke pulled a blaster but Han forestalled him.

"Yes," he confessed abruptly.

The Sith waited.

"Many, many years from now," Han said.

Luke groaned. "Han."

The Sith yelled in anger and attacked.

"You always know what to say Han," Luke bit out as he pushed Han to cover.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When one of the walls blasted in again, Han wanted to just shout to the stars:

"What had he done to deserve this!?"

But then he thought better of it.

Dark figures emerged from the smoke as Luke cleanly kicked a saber from a warrior's hand and simultaneously took the heads off two others.

A new group emerged from the smoke, several women in synth-leather with some accents of armor, a man in armor and a lithe figure completely covered in silver armor. They all were complete with full helmet and face mask.

Ghost, and her entourage.

"About time you got here!" Han shouted over his blaster fire and Ghost and the others ran to join them. "What, did the official tour go a little longer than you thought? Or did ya stop at the gift shop on the way!?"

Ghost shoved Han aside 'accidently.' "Yep," she quipped, "and I picked up some of these."

She threw some explosives into the battle, Specter, sensing it leapt clear.

The explosives detonated, then releasing smaller ones that detonated again, and again, and again—

And again—

And again-

And again—

And again-

And again.

Han coughed as they rose and dusted themselves off. None of their opponents were intact enough to have survived—much less continue fighting.

"So, Solo," Ghost said, her vocabulator on making her sound masculine, "would you like to lead the way?"

The armored man gestured dubiously. "Uh, Ghost, the objective is to get out _alive_."

"Thanks," Han snarked.

Ghost shrugged. "I just figured if he led, he'd ferret out any traps on the way, him and hitches and all."

"Hey!"

"Oh come on Solo, don't you wanna impress the princess?"

Han spun on Luke. "You told her about me and Leia?!"

"No," Ghost bluntly put in, "Link and Mouse did."

Han put a hand to his ear. "When I get my hands on you two"—

"You'll ask for girl advice?" Mouse cut in. "Don't bother buddy; Spek keeps us locked up, remember?"

"Yeah, we're grounded," Link added, "as in forever."

"Hey," Luke retorted, "you two ever wanna go back to your old mentor that I saved you from—"

"No! No!" they quickly appeased in unison. "We're happy."

"Yeah," Link added, "Keep us locked up."

Luke shook his head.

They headed for the hanger area.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

In the reactor chamber, the two blasters had continued firing all the time since Luke and the others had fled. They suddenly ceased, their indicator lights came on, blinking in a series of colors.

The programs fed into both blasters came on; small screens with self-diagnostic and situational diagnostic scanners reading information from within and out.

The audio programs of both started in unison.

"Program indicates hostile situation has not abated. No sensor readings to conclude program should terminate. Upgrading program to next level. Begin missile-prepping sequence."

The blasters seemed to take themselves apart in some areas, changing shape again. Panels and sections grew and shrunk, leveled out, grew again; internal compartments appeared, opening.

Small thermal-level A missiles emerged.

"Missile conversion completed. Thermal-boron type A super-missiles active," the computers chimed together, "selecting targets."

The scanners with their red-grids swept across the chamber, taking in its most vulnerable points.

Including the reactor and its sub-sections themselves.

"Targets selected."

All 20 missiles fired at once.

The reactor was penetrated all over, its control conduits obliterated, falling in wreckage into the reactor itself and atop modulating consoles that held back-up security, protocol programs for emergencies and emergency shut-down measures.

Destroyed.

The reactor changed colors as it prepared to blow up.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When the group arrived at a point where the halls broke off into six different directions, Mara chose the time to act.

She dropped some explosives amongst them and watched them all jump in different directions as the bombs exploded.

As she hoped, Specter and the ghost-cat leapt into one hall on their own—alone.

Now barred off from the others.

Perfect.

Mara watched as Spek commed the others and told them to go on without him, that he'd find another way.

Instinct warned her to proceed cautiously as he and the cat made for a corridor; something felt off.

When the area shook, she knew why.

A new presence came into her awareness.

Poor Solo.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Han jumped clear of the blast grabbing one of the agents who had come with Ghost.

"What was-?" he asked, coughing.

"Trouble," Ghost said, rising and aiming her loaded vambraces at what was ambling towards them.

Han knew that outline.

"Fett," he growled.

Chewie roared, raising his bow-caster, but Fett was ready. His jet-pack was fired and he was in the air even before Chewie got a shot off.

"Here's something just for you, Wookie," Fett said, firing from his own vambraces.

"Dodge!" Ghost yelled.

Gas darts stuck all over, shooting out bright cobalt gas. "Mask penetrating," Ghost called out, waving for them to get Solo and Chewie out—while adjusting their masks to the threat.

Fett was prepared. He'd taken the anti-dote already, no doubt.

Ghost commanded her mask to up the filters, which it did; she ran at Fett and ignited her own pack ramming him head on.

He didn't see that coming, it seemed.

They crashed to the ground together.

"Dyin' for Solo's Spek's job," Fett snapped, shoving her away and pulling a blaster.

"It's called job-sharing," Ghost quipped, grabbing his wrist and jerking the blaster away making it fire at a wall.

"Hope it's worth it," Fett returned, kicking her hand away, she blasted at him with the other, which he was ready for and neatly dodged.

"Solo's face when I tell him I saved his sorry tail yet again?" Ghost incredulously asked. "More than worth it."

Fett stopped, as if to consider. "All right, point taken," he barked, "but I'm still killing you."

They pulled out the same blaster at the same time.

"Mine's a series six," Fett pointed out, "stow it."

"Mine's a series five with charger and targeting system from the series _seven_," Ghost smugly countered.

"Why did you do that?"

"I like the balance of the five better than the six; and it has better control."

Fett shifted in annoyance. "All right, point taken again—but that's the last time." And he pulled out a second blaster and started firing.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When the red-gold haired girl dropped on top of him, Luke was ready.

He adeptly somersaulted so she couldn't pin him, grabbed her arms and sent her flying.

To her credit, she compensated it with a flip and landed flawlessly.

When she rose, she wasted no words.

She pulled a lightsaber on him instead.

Luke didn't move as she closed in on him with the purple-blade. Briefly he thought of Windu.

"We already knew you were coming," he told the other, who blinked at him, still mostly concealing her surprise. "You hide your presence well, but Fade and I both still felt you."

She didn't answer.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked lightly. She halted at that.

Yes, he knew she'd taken the opportunity to learn; it's what he would have done in her place.

Knowledge was power; the ultimate power, so far as Luke was concerned.

"You're not going to capture me today," Luke said, watching her pretend to back away, when in fact she was discreetly drawing another weapon, "I'm staying free—and you're joining me."

The Hand started, before her defined face melted into pure anger.

"I am free," she snarled.

"No, you're not, but you're about to be." He gestured to the feline. "Fade, remove the barriers."

And Mara screamed as white-hot pain seared her mind.

She only knew she crumpled to her knees, clutched her head, and wailed herself hoarse.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N: **Well, kids, that's it for now. Plz enjoy and leave a review! Reviews are luv! Till next time.

PS, I did a mid-change of my FF name, just to make the transition sooner, cause I don't know how many of my Avengers fic followers or Aladdin and KOT followers know about the change either, so this will be easier for everyone All the best!


	4. Chapter 4: The Eye

**A/N:** Hey all, well, Ghost has arrived! And, as she's fighting Fett the same time Luke's facing down Jade, we all know now they're not the same person. Sorry to those of you who were perhaps wanting that…but I promise Jade not being Ghost will be worth it in the end. Anyways, I hope you're still liking, MANY thanks to the new reviewers who made my day 110% happier by letting me know their thoughts for the first time. And also a big thanks to the reviewers who came over from Ep. IV to Ep. V! It's soooo awesome to see those familiar names! Love it!

*So, the only question I got is why did Luke's blood NOT match the sample of Anakin Skywalker's from the Temple records at the end of Ep. IV? A: when Luke found out Anakin was his father, he had Link and Mouse change the sample in the Temple records to someone else so it didn't match Luke's anymore. It's in Ep. IV someplace, but I don't remember which chapter, I think it's Ch. 4 or 5, but don't quote me on that. Anyways, that's why. So, onward!

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.4—The Eye _

_When Luke had remarked before pulling those TD's out before things were about to 'heat up,' the kid had not been kidding,_ Han thought.

He ducked behind some work stations as the new group of dark everything's swarmed in around them.  
The only consolation was, he and Chewie weren't taking them on…solo, he guessed.

Han groaned.

Behind him, the other armored man, Warhead, came rushing in, body slamming the last two Inquisitors while the five ladies in leather synth and armor spread out to clean house with the Sith assassins.

That left the sorcerers and warriors to Han and Chewie.

Oh, the fun of it.

He ducked behind the panels as more sapphire-white lightning shot over their heads.

"Remind me Chewie," Han remarked, "to tell the kid the next time he wants to keep me 'safe' that I'll stay at home where I'm not safe, ok?"

Chewie harned in agreement.

Over them, they heard the tell-tale sound of security systems whining as they fired up.

"_Super-ship 001 sector 706 security activated. Scanning for hostiles," _the computer announced over-head.

"Uh-oh," Han drawled wearily.

"_Hostiles located, preparing to terminate."_

All around the immense room, secret panels opened, and a mind-numbing array of laser cannons, blasters and rapid-fire gunnery appeared.

Everyone froze, caught off guard.

"_Terminating acquired targets."_

Blaster fire instantly erupted all around them.

Han dived down, Chewie beside him.

Han yelled into his earpiece. "Quick! You two tech-hermits turn this off before—"

Link and Mouse laughing hysterically stopped him cold.

"What are you two lunatics-?"

"Uh, genius," Link quipped, "did you notice yet that the weapons aren't firing at _you_?"

Han dubiously peered just a fraction over the consoles to see bloody devastation unfolding all around them—but he and Chewie, Warhead and the girls were not being fired at.

They were all concealed behind hardware…but surely the computer systems can still detect them?

"Tell me you did this," Han stonily told the two hackers.

"Nope, but you're on the right track—for once," Mouse returned.

Ah; the bird. So that was where he disappeared off to then.

"Tell Feathers thanks," Han said as he watched the last Inquisitor fall.

So, now only mangled bodies lay between them and the nearest door.

Han sighed heavily and rose, tugging on Chewie to do the same.

"Let's get out of this madhouse," he grumbled as the team fell into step behind him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Mara could feel something being ripped loose from her mind, like binders falling away or layers of walls being shredded to dust—

Or both.

The only reason she was aware of it even as the searing pain drove screams from her otherwise fully restrained lips was of the training.

She'd been trained to resist torture—

She'd been trained to separate herself from the pain, to keep control of her mind even in agony—

But when the memories began to surface…there was no training to face this.

Mara was so stunned by the pictures that wove themselves together before her inner eye, she only half-realized the pain had ended, and her body was still once more.

Pictures, images of vistas, of mountains and people she thought she recognized flitted, danced, paraded across her mind. People waved to her, calling her a different name, one she could barely make out, people who looked happy and loving reached out for her, laughing amiably, gesturing for her to join them in their bliss.

She felt the tears come.

She didn't remember their names, she didn't know what they were calling her, only that it wasn't 'Mara,' but she could feel their love. She was enveloped by it, like a warm cloak, shielding her from the cold realities of the galaxy. She could feel their gentle hands as they touched her, hugged her, she could feel soft lips brush her brow as a woman with shorter red-gold hair bent over to kiss her affectionately, and the tall man beside her with emerald-green eyes tussled her hair fondly.

Where they her parents? Wait; why did she seem to feel they had been?

'Had been?' Why did she think that? Did that mean they were dead now?

Yes; yes, somehow she felt certain they were. But, how?

The first crystal-like tear fell down one cheek; she knew how they had died.

The memories were vague, almost made of smoke, but in a very dark corner of her mind, she recalled:

The Emperor. Her master had ordered their deaths as he took her away.

"Attend to the others," he had directed the Crimson Guard as he boarded his shuttle with Mara.

Mara hadn't realized what that phrase had meant then, she had been—how old?

She wasn't certain, very, very young she deduced, perhaps five.

But she was fully aware now, what 'attend to them' had meant: execution.

No living relations to come and try to free her later on.

_Free_ her.

Free.

"_I am free,"_ she had snarled to Specter.

"…_you're not…but you will be,"_ he had evenly replied.

Slowly, achingly, she shifted her body, still sprawled on the floor, to face him.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Fett finally got a hit in, connecting his armored fist with Ghost's chest.

The assassin grunted as he went flying across the room, slamming hard into the opposite wall.

To his credit, the assassin instantly leapt to his feet, reaching for a blaster.

Fett instinctively whipped out one of his best: the bulky but effective C4-Atomizer.

And saw Ghost pointing the exact same model at him.

He groaned angrily, tossing it aside, seeing Ghost react the same and yanking out another weapon.

The each pulled their high-density incinerators on each other.

"'Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery' my hide," Fett barked, irritation rising hot inside of him.

Ghost holstered the blaster only to pull a larger one. "Your copying me is kinda juvenile, Fett; didn't know you did that sort of thing."

"Me copying you? Are you—"

Fett stalled when he pulled a second blaster the same moment he pulled a second.

And those were the same model too.

"This is getting old, assassin," he growled.

Ghost moved as if to say something, then paused.

"You mean, you're not doing this on purpose? Pulling the same weapons as me?"

Fett rolled his eyes. "I'm a bounty hunter, not an assassin. And this isn't funny," he added in a threatening voice.

"Hmm," Ghost said thoughtfully, but ended it there. He pulled out—a slave drive?

Fett had a terrible premonition, and jumped to one side—

Just as Ghost's ship blasted holes from the other side of the outer wall, decimating where he was just standing.

Craters, but this killer _was_ efficient.

**XXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke knelt down beside her, making a point to not remove his helmet, though he knew it'd help reassure her.

Unfocused emerald stared wide at him; he could see the memories weaving themselves back together in those dazzling orbs.

"You were right," she avowed numbly.

Luke caught the devastation in her voice; it was a horrifying thing, learning your entire life had been a lie—a means to someone else's ends.

A feeling Luke was acquainted with.

He nodded. "I'm sorry," he softly told her, trying to make his vocabulator-altered voice less intimidating, "but, this is your chance. You know now the Emperor used you all along, but it wasn't your fault, you were only a small child. But, you're an adult now"—barely, he noted—"you have a chance to get away, live your own life."

Mara shook her head, her eyes sobered with something dire. "No," she countered quietly, "he can reach me, anywhere; I'm connected to him, when he realizes what you've done"—

A massive disturbance in the Force stilled them both.

Fade darted to the wall of viewports behind them. _Friend, look! _ She called, gesturing with her tail.

Luke helped Mara up carefully, and they both rushed to the Ethereal's side.

"What is it?" Luke asked.

Mara's face was lined with grave acceptance. "The Eye of Palpatine," she replied.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ghost felt it when something monolithic and revoltingly evil barged into her awareness, making her gag. She flipped clear of Fett, and glanced out a side port.

It was enormous, more leviathan than the ship they were fighting on. But, it was shaped different.

"Well, Fett," she cut in, holding up a hand, "it seems our date is over." She waved and Fett looked in that direction.

Solo and the others decided that moment to rush into the corridor with them, halting behind Ghost. Han saw the monstrous ship outside.

"Great," he mumbled, "what in the Nine Corellian hells is that?"

"My cue to leave," Fett announced dryly, "you're right assassin: this will have to wait." He made a flippant gesture to Solo. "Solo, you're so incompetent you can't even handle being captured right."

With that, he turned and marched away.

Solo cocked his blaster and made to follow, but Ghost raised an arm to bar his way. "We've got bigger problems, Solo."

Solo dropped his shoulders in concession. "Yeah: getting out of here and past that thing."

Chewie harned.

Solo raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Chewie, don't be ridiculous, of course that ship isn't going to fire on us; we're in an Imp—"

Boom! Boom!

The ship rocked hard from side to side as the other ship opened fire on them.

"I stand corrected!" Solo yelled, grabbing for the nearest wall.

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke grabbed Mara and made for her ship.

Outside, the newcomer vessel, which was easily five times the size of the super-star destroyer they were on, had opened several bays in its rocky form. Luke had thought it very likely an asteroid converted to a destroyer, just by the looks of it, but when those guns had shown themselves…Luke had cringed.

Only the DS's main cannon had been larger.

He practically flung Mara onto the ramp of her converted yacht when the next blasts had hit. Luke heard the onboard computers declaring life-support had been hit.

He yelled into his vambraces-comm. "Noc! Get the shields up!"

Chatters on the other side replied that he was doing exactly that. Luke turned up to Mara, who was reaching for him.

"Come with me!" she shouted over falling cross-beams.

Luke shook his head. "I've got to get the rest of my team! Go!"

Mara tried to grab for him, but Luke used the Force to throw her into her ship, close the ramp and activate the lift-sequence.

"_I'll follow," _he told her in the Force, "_get out of here! We'll meet up later; just go someplace safe—and far from Palpatine."_

Her yacht whined loudly as it raised itself off the hanger and headed for the bay opening.

Luke turned to Fade. "Go with; keep her safe from the Emperor."

Just then, screeches of alarm came over his comm—the message was clear: Noc was saying the shields had failed.

Over them, the ceiling cracked open, air howled as it was sucked out.

_I won't leave you; she'll have to fare on her own, _Fade declared, winding her tail around Luke and quickly phasing through the nearest walls.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Han yanked on the lift-off controls as Chewie practically fell into his seat beside him.

"We're outta here, Chewie," he coolly said, hoping to himself the kid was okay.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ghost reached her ship with Warhead and the others close behind. Noc flew in as the landing ramp began to raise. She turned to him as he landed on the back of the co-pilot's chair.

"Glad you could join us," she said with a relieved smile.

Noc clanked his tongue on his beak in relieved reply.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Fade ghosted them into the _Revenant _as the super-vessel outside hammered the ship without mercy.

Once Luke was seated in the pilot's chair, he hastily got them off the ground.

He pulled off his helmet, his pale face set with determination.

"Change of plans, Fade," he coldly said.

She peered at him.

"We have to take it out," he said, gesturing to the _Eye._ "It'll be the next Death Star if we don't."

Fade nodded. She then looked off into space, then back at him. _Ghost informs me Nocturne is with her and all right._

"Good, tell him to get into that thing's programming; Link and Mouse can help us take it apart."

Over his comm, Link came on. "Boss, we're ready when you are."

Luke nodded. "Then let's get that ship."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Mara shook the remnants of dizziness from her as her ship swooped into the vast cauldron of space.

Her Imperial markings would keep her safe from _The Eye, _she felt confident of that.

But, the Specter, he was far from safe.

She touched a finger to her one temple. Why? Why had he shown so much compassion, risked so much to save her? They had never met, they had been enemies, battling on opposite sides.

So, why did he essentially jeopardize his mission to liberate her—a total stranger?

She was at a loss to understand it. Assassins didn't feel sympathy, did they?

Did he? Mara wondered.

He had told her she'd be free; he revealed later on she'd been a tool, used for the Emperor's gain.

Had the Specter been once the same: the prisoner of another, used by another?

Something inside of Mara whispered that yes: that was what had compelled him to snatch her from her blind servitude.

Blinding lights splashed across her cockpit's viewport, jarring her back to herself. She peered out to see her 'enemies'' ships battling _The Eye._

She felt the Force tell her in an instant: if she didn't help them, they'd lose.

She pulled on the controls to change her course.

She wanted to fly away, as the last stupefying effects of her 'liberation' wore off, Mara could sense feelings rising: anger, pain, confusion, revenge, agony, all bubbling up slowly, longing to overwhelm her. It was so much, to in an instant go from devoted servant to enlightened former pawn.

But no; Mara wanted to be sick at the irony, but she fell back on her training to stay in control. She'd scream, rant, cry and emotionally fall to pieces then put herself back together later on.

She had a debt to repay, and vengeance to mete out.

Specter needed her help…and Palpatine needed to pay.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N:** That's it for now kids! Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5: Thwarted

**A/N: **Firstly, I wanna give a HUGE thanks to MIreilles3 for asking if Luke destroyed the Eye of Palpatine too. I had totally forgotten about that weapon, so I threw it into Ch. 4 with a new plot twist. The escape scene was gonna be different, but I like this way better. So, thanks M! Anyways, I hope you all liked Ch. 4 and here we go! Onward! ;)

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.5—Thwarted_

Luke quickly realized why the Emperor had his engineers craft a super-ship from an asteroid.

There were no weak points.

Luke exhaled sharply as he sent another barrage of missiles down on the body of the massive creation; thankfully his armaments were illegal enough to be somewhat effective.

He wasn't certain though what they were gonna do; Noc just reported in he was meeting real obstacles in breaking into the ship's software—a first for the cyber-falcon.

Translation: they were in trouble, real trouble.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Meanwhile, on the super-ship, in the main reactor area Han's two abandoned blasters were still operational.

Of course, the blasters mistook the explosions around them and general madness as continued hostile presence—thrown around as they had been their systems were now damaged.

"_Enemy detection still active; upgrading program to omega level—objective: total annihilation," _the computers said in unison.

The blasters, which were jostled fiercely among the fiery blazes and continued cacophony of detonations as the reactor came apart, shifted their forms again, this time flattening out to reveal panels that opened in uniform fashion.

Black chrome rockets rose out of the panels on tiny launch-plates.

The computers said in symphony: _"Objective of complete destruction must be attained according to programming. Total decimation of all hostiles: commencing."_

The black chrome rockets shrieked as they took off; firing in every direction of what the damaged scanners considered a 'hostile.'

The reactor was instantly obliterated, collapsing on itself in a fantastic display of multi-colored flashes and raging fire.

Some of the rockets blasted out the viewports though, in the direction of _The Eye._

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Fade's news was not uplifting.

"What do you mean, you can't sense anything on that ship?" Luke asked again, his tone tight.

Fade did her version of a shrug. _I hoped to stun the minds of those who seek our destruction, but there are no living minds aboard the ship. It can only be deduced then that we are working against a super-computer, something akin to Nocturne. That would also explain why he is unable to breach the ship's networking._

The worst part was, Luke knew she was right on both counts.

He sighed, just as Han came over the comm, demanding to know in his own delicate fashion, how in the Sith hells they were gonna take out this monstrosity!?

Luke punched the comm, about to tell Han to keep his boots on, when Mara's voice came over the comm instead.

"Specter, are you there?"

Luke gawked. "Mara! Why aren't you far from here!?"

"Because you're not far from being reduced to atoms," was the snapped reply, "listen to me, there is a way we might be able to destroy this ship—"

"What do you mean: 'might be able'?" Han barked.

A blinding white light flashed before Luke could tell Han to shut it, followed by a shock wave that sent his ship reeling.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

The rockets raced at _The Eye, _their busted scanners, scrutinizing the super-ship.

"_Primary hostile detected….gughhg….objective…xoxohwhthggh…terminate ."_

The scanners found the yawning openings of the mega-cannons, the program understanding that they lead inside the structure—to where weaknesses could be found.

"_Vulnerable entry points detected."_

The rockets zoomed into the ship via the mammoth gunnery.

**XXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"That was the ship's operational center!" Ghost called over the comms. "Our sabotage worked! We have to get out of here before the ship itself goes up!"

"What about _The Eye?" _Luke retorted. "If we just leave, it'll hunt us down! It's too much risk to the rebellion." He fought with the controls to keep the ship from being catapulted into debris while the paramount lightshow of explosions sent shock-waves pounding against his skiff. He knew the _Revenant _was sleeker and could cut through the bombardment more cleanly than Ghost's or Han's ships—therefore he wasn't worried much _about himself_.

"Get out!" he ordered. "I'll finish off _The Eye."_

"Not without me!" Jade and Ghost yelled together.

"Sounds good to me, kid," Han said.

"Han!" Ghost rebuked.

"What!? The kid can—"

Explosions from inside _The Eye _made them all freeze mid-tell-off-Han.

"Uh…" Han asked, "what was that?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The rockets penetrated through the enormous gunnery into the battery areas, neatly punching holes in the durasteel walls of _The Eye_ as the super-sensitive instruments located the reactor area via energy signature.

"_Energy readings compatible with super-weapon level main reactor network. Impact in three—"_

"…_two…one…."_

Seven of the rockets threw themselves into the tri-level super-reactor, it's pine-cone-structured, imposing frame fractured instantly by Link and Mouse's latest creations.

Their onboard scrambling systems had allowed them to neatly cleave through the reactor's shielding defenses, which hissed and crackled deafeningly as their supporting mainframe exploded.

Explosions colossal enough to easily surpass Fondor's center's tore savagely through the central part of _The Eye_, eating ravenously its way to the outer walls of the asteroid-ship hybrid.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"With the schematics I have access to," Mara was contending as they watched the control center rip itself apart in a fiery glory, "we can—"

The geyser-like explosion that shot out of the top of _The Eye_ stalled the argument on Han's tongue.

"Uhhhh," he said instead.

"I don't know what did that," Luke put in, "Noc, get you get us a read?"  
Noc used a text box to say he'd try.

"Link? Mouse?" Luke prompted.

"Boss, I don't know how to tell you this," Link tentatively said, "but I think, for once, Solo's skillful incompetence may have saved the day."

"Skillful what!?" Solo roared.

"Yeah," Mouse agreed, his tone filled with amazement, "I'm getting energy feeds that match the rockets in the MT-221's that we lent Solo. They stretch from the super-ship to The Eye. When those blasters went AWAL the rockets must have gone after that asteroid-ship; it's the only thing that makes sense…if anything about this can actually make sense."

Luke let himself go limp in his pilot's chair, relief palpable in the air.

"As Ben would say," he emotionlessly avowed, "thank the Force."

"Yes," Mara breathlessly agreed.

"Great, we won," Han deadpanned, "now let's get outta here before something else happens."

"Wah!" Mara suddenly yelled over the comm before it went dead.

Luke pounded his comm. "Mara?! Mara!?" He spun to Fade. "Find her! Quick!"

Fade closed her eyes and went to work.

**XXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Just as Mara was about to ask for the coordinates, dark talons stabbed into her head; she vaguely recalled yelling into her comm before her body went limp, as if paralyzed.

Palpatine, he was all around her, everywhere, thick and invasive and imperious.

Every centimeter the presence of absolute evil.

"_Let me go!" she shrieked in her mind._

_Somehow, in some incomprehensible way, she could see his face, like a vague watermark. _

"_Now, child," he crooned, "do not resist; I am here to save you, just as I did those years ago."_

"_Saved me!? You killed my family and kidnapped me!"_

"_Ah; so the boy tore away the mental binds, a foolish move. He will pay later." Palpatine had seemed to gaze off into space when he said it, as if contemplating something and Mara was filled with a searing worry for Specter._

_What would the Emperor do to him!?_

_He turned his attention back to her. "Fear not, little one, the Specter has tried to confuse you, that is all, but I will make all as it ought to be again. Your ship will bring you back to me, and I shall heal what he tried to destroy."_

_Before Mara could scream, everything went black._

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_I am sorry, friend, she is gone._

Luke groaned in dismay. "Where?"

Fade gestured with her tail. _Her ship almost immediately leapt into hyperspace. I felt his presence though._

No need to clarify who 'he' was.

"So, he took her then; he must have sensed what we did."

Fade nodded. _It seems the Sith Lord will not be so easily undone. We will need to be more clever next time._

Luke's face set into stone. "And there will be a next time."

He ordered everyone into hyperspace.

It took no imagination to guess where Palpatine would herd Mara to: Coruscant.

It was a good thing then he'd been planning to visit there for some time now.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke's ship wasn't very large, and most of the space had been commandeered for 'business' needs.

Aka: weapons, armor, more weapons, and maintenance tools for the weapons and armor, mainly.

Of course Noc's 'toys' needed compartments too, so that left little if any living space.

Luke had gotten used to it; he had never allowed himself a permanent residence, per se, over the years, the _Revenant_ had been home. It had been safer for everyone; no actual address meant no rivals or those sent to hunt him—in the early days before everyone knew better—could exploit the false security of a 'home.'

It had made tracking him virtually impossible. And after a few years and massive piles of dead bodies later, everyone had stopped trying.

Luke had cringed at the thought. 'Home' was a place where people let their guards down.

And as the assassin's creedo said: dropped guards lead to lost heads.

An assassin never dropped his defenses. As long as they were up, he was safe.

The only true safety there was; all others were illusions.

But even still, another creedo said: safety is the absence of danger.

Was there such a thing? Luke deeply doubted it. He could not think of a single scenario where he'd actually feel 'safe.'

Luke rose from his pilot's seat, gesturing for Fade to take over, which she did, seeing his face lined with weariness.

He had a cot inset into the wall in a small room where Noc kept most of his equipment. They both knew where he was heading.

As Luke let himself stretch out on the plain cot and drift off, he wondered for a moment before sleep took him, if he ever found his father, would he feel safe then? His father was a Jedi after all, a hero of the Old Republic, would the galaxy seem less vicious, less terrible then?

Luke closed his eyes, wanting to think so, but instinct gnawing in a way that said: no, not even then.

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

She looked so beautiful, lying on the white bed, wearing a pale gold gown that complimented her red-gold hair.

Luke gazed down at Mara Jade, watching her breath slowly, as the doctor in the room with them ran his tests.

Luke a mainly took in the streamlined hospital chamber, the ivory walls, tiled floor, plain bed that Mara rested in and the very advanced and undoubtedly expensive equipment the medic was working with.

Sun streamed like a golden waterfall into the room from very large windows at Luke's back. It felt so real, the light that warmed him as he stared at the sleeping girl.

She looked to different when sleeping; so peaceful.

Luke envied her that; he never found peace in sleep.

He withheld the cringe, thinking at what he usually did find.

Something made him back away from her suddenly, as a cold, dark presence crept into his field of vision, like an oozing poison.

It was coming for Mara; Luke hissed and wanted to protect her, but the Force seemed to grow invisible arms, grabbing him.

He wanted to fight it, wanted to protect her, but the Force hissed in his ear to wait.

_Wait for the right moment._

Luke gritted his teeth; who knew the Force would one day quote an assassin's maxim to him.

Irony; life was fraught with it.

He backed away, concealing himself behind a room-dividing curtain.

He felt the Force fall thick over him, like armor almost. Luke relaxed a fraction of a fraction, sensing this 'armor' would hide him from whatever was coming.

But, the venomous presence drew near, like a deadly storm, hungry to destroy.

It's claws seemed to reach out for Mara; Luke ground his teeth as his body tensed.

He hated it, this inaction; it was Leia with Vader on the Death Star all over again, when he'd heard himself say that revolting phrase: I can't.

I can't.

_No_, he exhaled in frustration, _I can't_…yet.

Only yet.

But soon. When the time is right.

The door to Mara's room swooshed open and Palpatine entered. The medic practically leapt to his feet from the chair at Mara's side and bowed low.

"Your highness," he greeted in awe.

Palpatine clearly enjoyed being called that, Luke noted with disgust. The Sith imperiously strode to Mara's side.

"How is she?" he asked, as if already knowing the answer.

"Ah," the medic replied, retrieving a data-pad and diving into a succinct report that Mara was well and healthy, just recovering from some mental shock, but in a day or two, she'd be completely rejuvenated with appropriate sleep and nutrients.

Palpatine only nodded, waving the man away. He bowed again and hastily left the chamber.

He took the girl's hand nearest to him, her bed was set against the wall opposite the towering windows, and simply said, "Child."

Mara groaned lightly as her body shifted, her dark lashes fluttered as emerald eyes slowly opened.

She took in the room for a few seconds before turning to the Emperor. Palpatine said nothing, only waited, his face, Luke wanted to say it was both expectant but wary.

Did he wonder then if his 'healing' her mind had perhaps failed? Was there a chance of that?

It then hit Luke that he'd known it all along: this wasn't just a dream.

It was a vision, he must be on Coruscant then…again.

With the Emperor, Luke took a steadying breath, recalling the catastrophe he'd wreaked last time.

But no; he'd promised Ben never again, and it wouldn't help Mara.

The only way to save her was to go to Coruscant and kidnap her. Fade could free her mind again, once they were on the _Revenant_. Luke deduced the Emperor had probably installed a fail-safe slave drive in Mara's ship. Once he'd discovered her liberation, he'd simply activated it and knocked her out through the Force.

Luke watched as the bleariness cleared from those green orbs. "M…master?" she hesitantly asked.

Palpatine smiled; Luke held in the growl. So, he had re-taken her mind then.

"My faithful Hand," he said gently, "you are well and safe."

"What happened?" her voice was saturated with trust. Luke made himself stay still.

Palpatine patted her hand, like a father. "You were battling the Specter, but I saw in your mind some creature of the Force, a minion of his, attacked you. It filled your mind with confusing and disturbing thoughts; you were disorientated by it. You were just barely able to return. I was able to heal your mind once your ship landed. The damage was extensive, but you are very strong, my Hand. You were able to withstand it."

Mara smiled at the hidden praise. "You've always taken care of me."

The Emperor nodded, offering her another false smile. "You are dearly important to me, my Hand." He tenderly released her hand and straightened. "Now, rest, child; it is the medic's wish you remain one more day, merely for observation. Then, I wish to see you in Court."

Mara dutifully nodded.

"The diversion will be good for you," the Emperor added as he reached for his cane. The door opened as he approached. "Do whatever the medic wishes, child." And he walked out.

Mara leaned back into the pillow as the medic re-entered and asked if she was hungry. She said no and adjusted herself to go back to sleep. After the medic glanced over the monitors, he politely said he'd give her some privacy and asked she only comm for anything she wanted. Mara only nodded, clearly letting herself drop off.

Then she was alone, ostensibly.

Luke debated what to do, part of him said to wait, part of him wanted to wake her, convince her to follow him out and sneak with her to—where?

Luke clenched his jaw. The fact was, he was only seeing this as a vision, even if he could interact with his surroundings as he did before-where could he take her? If he used his power, the Emperor would sense him, but as he had not so far, that was surely why Palpatine hadn't detected, yet at least.

So, what was he to do?

When the scene suddenly shifted, Luke yelped, not ready for it.

It was as if the ground was yanked from beneath his feet.

He stood atop a very tall tower, over-looking…a wasteland.

He instantly knew who it was though, when he heard that trademark breathing.

**XXXXXXXX**

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**A/N: **Well, kiddos, that's it for now. I'm SOOOO glad over the reviews I've gotten so far! I can't tell you how happy they make me! So, many thanks for that, and thanks for reading. Anyways, I've been getting some clamoring for MORE VADER! LOL; so, I'm gonna throw an extra scene in, just with Vader, it's not in my storyboard, but I hope you like it! Next chapter! Till then: Please review if you haven't yet! Even a word or two, thanks!


	6. Chapter 6: Ruminations

**A/N:** So, MANY thanks for the reviews I received so far! Love it you guys have made me a review addict, lol…. Anyways, I got a holla out from Sweden, so hey back to Sweden from the U.S.! So, here we go! Onward!And as always, nada but OC's are mine

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.6— Ruminations_

Luke backed away from the balcony's edge; to an indented part of the tower itself as the over two meter tall giant came into view.

Vader.

Luke swallowed hard, keeping the realization at bay that since their Death Star meeting the dark lord's presence had never totally left him. It was always there, lingering in the fringes of Luke's awareness, a constant presence.

Essentially, Vader had haunted Luke's every step since then, imprecise and nebulous, but there.

Always _there._

Luke remained silent as Vader regarded the endless wastes sprawled before him. When the thunder boomed overhead, neither figure reacted, when the swollen clouds turned loose their wrath of large, pelting drops of acid rain, Luke wondered what consumed Vader's attention so. Surely he didn't plan to let the acid rain to eat through his armor and cloak, but Vader appeared totally indifferent over it.

Luke's brow furrowed; something had taken Vader's thoughts prisoner.

But what?

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Vader wasn't brooding, he was merely preoccupied.

At least that's what he told himself as he let the grey-gold rain mercilessly bombard his armor. He had left the fleet under Piett's command once again after a month of fruitless searches for the new rebel compound. In mounting frustration, Vader had sequestered himself in his meditation chamber aboard the _Avenger,_ hoping that deep rumination would lead to a Force-epiphany of the rebel's new fortress.

Instead, he'd not been plunged into the heart of the enemies' base, but his own inward self.

Immersed into a deep trance-like state, he awakened in the most familiar of places:

_It was Naboo. Vader would recognize the soft breezes and sweeping hills of the Lake Country anywhere. Even as he strode among the tall-grass fields where he and Padmé would picnic a life-time ago, instinct whispered where he was heading instantly:_

_Varykino: the Naberrie's lake retreat._

_Vader was surprised when he walked around to the back of the large residence where glass double-doors opened to the elegant gardens that he spied no one around._

_No servants, no Naberrie's…until one of the doors creaked open and a petite figure stepped out onto the cobble-stoned patio area:_

_His angel, his immaculate Padmé._

_Vader's throat closed as shock seized him fast, his mind numbed; he couldn't move, couldn't think. How? How could it be her?_

_He tried to wake from the vision, but the Force kept him under as Padmé turned to him and smiled, and he noticed the small bundle in her slim arms._

"_Ani!" she whispered in glee, rushing to him, but for some reason glancing down in worry at the bundle, as if afraid to disturb it. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd get back."_

_Vader reacted without thinking. "Why, is something wrong?"_

_And then it hit him—his voice. He didn't hear the vocabulator._

_It was _his_ voice; Anakin's as if Mustafar had never taken place, as if he'd never donned the suit. Belatedly, it occurred to him he'd not heard his own breathing all the trek here. _

"_Oh, no, nothing's wrong, Anakin," Padmé replied, rocking the bundle, "you were just away longer than I'd expected. But, it's all right; I got some things done for the Queen while the baby slept. Everyone's still out in fact; you're the first one back."_

_But Vader didn't hear the rest of it after that one word left his wife's perfect lips._

"_B…baby?" he heard himself breathe. He looked to the bundle in her arms, the white-fleece blanket._

_It stirred. Padmé smiled. "He must have felt you come back," she said fondly._

_Vader swallowed. He. It had been a son then. _

_Padme had been right; a son._

Their_ son._

_Soft cooing from the blankets drew Vader to her side. He had to see their son; it was a Force-vision and therefore accurate. He had to see the child he'd lost along with his Angel before he woke._

_When he reached for the blanket, he swallowed at seeing his left hand touch the fleece._

_It was flesh._

Breathe_, he told himself as emotion rose to overwhelm him, _breathe_._

_More cooing; their son had woken up. Padmé smiled and touched a finger to the baby's face, which a tiny hand reached up to grab. Padmé laughed; her wonderful, musical laugh._

"_He's got such a grip, Anakin," she said mutedly, her tone proud and turned to look at him with a wide smile, "he already has your strength."_

_Vader wanted to tell himself to not wilt under that smile, craved to push the feelings away, to wrap himself in the cold familiarity of the dark side…but he couldn't. He could only stare at her face, drink in her beauty and that blinding smile that cut him to his very soul._

_Like a moth to the flame._

_Padmé rocked the blanket as the baby tugged on her finger, and then caught Vader off guard by offering their child to him. "Take him, Ani? You haven't held him yet today."_

_Vader wanted to laugh without humor, but the reality of it hurt too much._

_No; he'd not held his son yet that day…or any day. The child lay dead with his wife. _

_He'd never hold his son, ever._

_But, at least in this vision, he discovered at last it had been a son; he took the blanket, eager to see his child's face._

_Vader wanted to close his eyes, to let the crushing weight of the moment settle to where it was less unbearable—but didn't dare. He feared if he did, when he opened them, the vision would be gone. He gazed down at his son._

_The child was a perfect image of him, with a few traits from Padme. He had her porcelain skin and some of her chin. But, electric blue stared back at him, his very own eyes, and the fuzzy golden hair was all Anakin. He had his father's face, but when the baby cooed and smiled up at him, it was his wife's smile._

_Padme took his elbow, resting her head on his upper arm. _

"_Isn't he beautiful, Anakin?"_

_It was too much, Vader's throat twisted in a hard knot as hateful emotions took him over; weak feelings of regret and remorse, overlaid by endless grief. He squeezed his eyes shut and as he'd expected, felt the vision slip away._

When Vader had awakened later, the grief totally consumed him. He'd let out a wail more feral and deranged than when Palpatine had told him Padmé had died—by his very own hand. His rage had leveled his mediation chamber to rubble, and killed the twenty men dispatched to see what had happened. Piett had apparently feared an assassination attempt on the dark lord and sent a team to ensure their ship had not been invaded.

Vader had cut the men down with his saber to vent out his pain and rage, stomped to his shuttle, and ordered the hanger officers to inform Piett he was leaving to begin a separate search operation himself, charging Piett with the command.

And so, he'd flown here. Bast Castle, along with the rest of Vjun, was strong with the dark side, radiating the bleak energies like a black star. He had to retreat here, to recollect himself, re-fortify his strength. He couldn't chance the Emperor sensing any weakness within him.

Especially as he'd already guessed the old man was planning to replace him with the Specter.

Vader had stepped out onto the balcony, sensing the storm approach. Why, why did he have such a vision when he'd commanded the Force to show him the Specter?

It made no sense! Vader let out a low growl of frigid anger, longing to understand why after years of visions where his wife and had made no appearances at all, even in those weak early years when he'd practically begged the Force to show him Padme and his child—

Nothing. Not even one glimmer of them; ever.

And now, this assassin boy manifests into his life, and Vader has this vision.

Hollow angst and frustration loomed up inside of him. Vader gripped the balcony rails, determined to uncover the answer, even if he had to cleave half of the galaxy in two to find it.

Thunder roared and grumbled loudly all around and above him, echoing off the spired-walls of Bast Castle, where he had intended to conceal the Specter from Palpatine after capturing him.

But, the wily child had _escaped_—he always managed to escape.

Vader ground his teeth, keeping his mounting impatience at bay.

It was getting harder though. Piett had reported but a few weeks ago that even with the updated probe droids, the rebels had still managed to elude them.

Vader didn't wonder at it. They were now lead by an assassin, the greatest there was in fact. Surely the cagey boy had uncovered for the rebels the perfect location for a new base; someplace so discreet and well-camouflaged that the discovering them would require a miraculous feat.

Vader's jaw clenched tight enough to hurt; he'd find the boy, no matter the cost, no matter how long it took.

The mysterious child had devoured his every waking thought since the Death Star. Vader was at a loss to explain it, but the child always seemed nearby, like a phantom, just out of reach. But there were moments when Vader swore he could feel the child standing before him, watching his every move, his every breath.

The child haunted him, like a specter, dogging his every movement.

It was maddening at times, frustration swelled in the dark lord; he exhaled sharply to push it back. He'd heard the whispers amongst his men that he had become obsessed with tracking the young assassin—perhaps they were correct.

He shoved the thought away; it mattered not. Either way, the boy would be his in time.

No one could evade a Sith forever, time was not on the boy's side, but Vader's.

He smiled at the thought, relishing the searing pain as it stretched scarred skin.

It was why he had come to Vjun; as the probes were not reaping results, Vader would have to do so himself.

And for that, he'd need absolute quiet, concentration, as well as the dark side presence that was slathered thick and endless on this world.

It would come to his aid, amplifying his power.

He reached out, seeking the boy.

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

It always amazed Vader, how the boy's presence seemed to shine only for him, a luminous star radiating in the Force that only Vader could see.

Vader had deduced Palpatine could now minutely perceive the boy in the Force, but the Emperor's inner eye was blind mostly to the child; not so with Vader, Specter however cunning, was still a beacon to him, a blinding sense that Vader could always distinguish, even if he could not discern him in terms of location, he was nevertheless always _there_.

And over the months, the sense of him had seemed to grow; day by day, the ceaseless impression had strengthened around Vader, intensified. There were moments Vader felt he could reach out and touch the child; he had felt so gallingly near.

But, with the solitude of Vjun plus its resonance with the dark side, perhaps these two things would at last help him ascertain where the boy _was—_and why seeking him had conjured the vision of Padmé and their baby.

That was Vader's hope.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke froze when the Force wave knocked into him.

It was a second too late when he realized it had not only emanated from Vader, but what's its intent was—

Locate _him_.

He unconsciously fell back on training when the dark lord whirled to face him, cape billowing.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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Luke carefully smothered any fear when Vader took a step towards him, purposefully straightening when it hit him that Vader could not, for some reason, reach him through the Force.

The dark lord could only sense he was there; nothing more. Luke didn't allow himself to show any relief.

Though he was—immensely.

The Force armor still covered him; he wondered then, if it had concealed him from Palpatine, why it was not impervious to Vader as well.

Wasn't Palpatine the more powerful of the two?

He could practically see Vader smile from behind the mask, he had felt the jolt of surprise when Vader first glimpsed him; but the dark lord rebounded quickly. He gestured before him, to the immense castle of spires.

"Welcome to my home, young one," he rumbled, his voice melding perfectly with the thunder overhead, "you are most daring, to come to me here."

It was a question.

Luke kept his body rigid, kept from recoiling when Vader took another step forward. Somehow, he wasn't certain how but he knew the Force armor would protect him from the dark lord.

But then, why was the Force doing this? It had arranged this 'meeting' not him or Vader; so, why?

Was it so Luke could learn more about his adversary? Was this to prepare him for the future?

He wondered; it seemed logical.

Luke glanced around them. He'd heard of Vjun, the ravaged world drenched in endless storms of acid rain-an interesting place to build a 'home.'

Suddenly spending his life living in the _Revenant_ seemed like a luxury motel by comparison.

"Why here?" he couldn't help but ask.

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

For some reason, Vader flinched in surprise when the boy spoke.

And then it hit him: it was the first time he'd heard the child's actual voice. Before, even through the Force, the child had spoken through the altering influence of a vocabulator—

Like Vader himself.

It was unnerving, actually, to hear the boy's voice now. It was far too…young, for someone with his grisly reputation—with so much blood and destruction on his hands.

Vader imagined someone attached to that voice sitting in school, or wasting time with friends; not risking his life immersed in gory warfare-

-Leading a futile rebellion.

An incomprehensible need to snatch the boy from the bloodshed seized Vader for a moment before he cast it off.

Strange, the boy's influence on him; Vader would let himself ponder later why the child affected him so.

It must be the aftereffects of the vision.

He tilted his head to one side; pushing away the aggravation that he could not _see_ the child's actual features. That frustrated him most of all. Not only was the boy wrapped behind a shadow cast by the tower's overhang, but the Force had washed him out, making him a ghostly presence, nothing more.

Why did the dark side not aid him!? Why had it failed him, yet again?

But no, Vader would not waste this encounter.

All the while, the boy quietly waited for his answer. Vader resolved he would glean something from this; every little piece of the puzzle would be of use eventually.

"Why what, young one?"

The boy waved, and Vader was struck at how small his frame seemed without his armor. His arm, however toned, was surprising slender.

"Why here?" he asked, his tone very pragmatic, too much for his youth Vader thought. "You're second in command of an entire _galaxy_; you have your choice of endless worlds…yet your 'home' is here, in a desolate lifeless place. Why?"

Vader briefly thought of another world, a world where everything was soft…and smooth. He violently thrust it away. No, from another time, another life; it didn't matter anymore.

"This world suits my needs," was all he said. And it did; it was quiet, it was isolated. Vader could study the dark side here, could contemplate in peace. The child didn't need to know that the barrenness of Vjun mirrored Vader's own ravaged soul so perfectly that when he had first laid eyes upon the place, he immediately felt a kinship to the planet, as if it had been created just for him.

And him alone.

The child appeared to mull over Vader's ambiguous response, surprising the dark lord.

The child had displayed no hints of fear—though that could mean it was merely well hidden—but he so bravely stood there, conversing with the Sith, seeming genuinely curious.

It was a strange thing; Vader could not recall when he last simply spoke to another person.

In a bizarre way, it was refreshing. And the boy's reaction intrigued Vader all the more.

"And what of you, child?" Vader asked, stepping forward yet again. "The world you call home; what is it like, compared to this?"

The boy caught him off guard again by _snickering_. No one snickered at Darth Vader.

"I don't have one."

It was disturbing, how…practical his voice sounded.

"Then where do you live?"

"On my ship," he shrugged, "where else would I?"

Again, the matter-of-factness; why did it feel so wrong to Vader?

"You are but a child."

"Tell that to my clients, or victims."

Vader ground his teeth; the feeling of wrongness was rising in him, like a floodgate just opened. Why, why was the Force filling him with this sensation?

"You have never dwelt upon a planet, never in the whole of your life?" he pressed.

An indifferent gesture. "When I was around two or three, but that was before—" he fidgeted, apparently not realizing what he was about to say.

Heavy silence fell between them.

"Before?" Vader prompted.

Another shrug, but this one was too quick, too forced. "It doesn't matter now."

"Something happened then," Vader deduced, "to your home, to your family."

Silence.

Vader felt something…portentous, like a massive revelation was just on the horizon. He considered.

"Were it sickness, you merely would have said so," he mused aloud, and the boy winced—he was correct then. "So, your home was attacked."

The boy tensed.

"Was it the Empire, were your parents rebels, is that why you ally yourself with them now?"

He could have sworn he saw the boy's eyes narrow.

But…that could not be fully it though. Were his parents rebels and he aided them now for revenge, then why wait until now? Why not strike at the Empire before Yavin?

"I am only partly correct," he realized at length, "perhaps only one parent sided with their cause, but the other did not."

He felt ire rise up in the boy. He was going in the right direction then.

"Which, then?" he asked. "Which of your parent's was the traitor."

The assassin surprised him by laughing—it was dry though, without humor. "That depends on who you ask," he said, his tone almost taunting.

Vader was encouraged even in his surprise that the boy answered him. Good. If he could goad the boy into revealing something vital, like a snippet of family history he could trace.

Or even better—a name.

It seemed the dark side _was_ with him this day.

"And so, boy," he asked casually, "it seems you sided with your rebel parent. Which was that? Which did you continue to love and which did you learn to hate?"

It was a prod. He wanted the boy angry—angry and careless.

He didn't expect the Specter to slam him hard with the Force push, sending him over the balcony and plunging from the highest tower to the lower levels hundreds of feet below.

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**A/N: **Well, that's it for now! Hope you enjoyed! But, it's Vader…c'mon! LOL. Anyhow, plz feed your review addict here! Till next time


	7. Chapter 7: Mirror

**A/N:** OK, so I did want to tell you all the last chapter was partly inspired by a deviant pic I saw on Google Images the other day. I did find it again, after a long search, but never could find the name or author, but here's the address where you can view it: wwwDOTaghraineDOTdreamwidthDOTcom. Basically, it's a pic of Vader staring off into a night sky imaging Luke is standing in front of him. It's headshots only, with a very bright star between them. Luke is pictured as an apparition, but what really got me was the expression on Luke's face. It was tantalizing, as though he were just out of Vader's reach. So, that's what put the sub-plot in my head. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully you'll be able to find the pic. Anyways, got no questions, so onward!

Psst, if you ever do find the pic, and get a name and/or title, please let me know; I do want to credit the artist! Thanks!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.7— Mirror _

Sense told Luke to stop and think about what he'd just done—and what he was doing.

Pain and anger drove him to leap off the dizzying high central spire of Bast Castle and plummet down the hundreds of feet to where Vader had impacted hard on the rounded lower levels of the fortress, actually making a large dent in the metal framework.

He dropped, landing perfectly just two or three meters from where Vader was rising.

To his credit, the dark lord looked not the worse for wear, his massive frame straightening majestically even as the wind whipped at his large cape, making it snap against the howling gales.

The storm was venting itself in earnest now.

Lightning struck a short distance away, washing the Sith in a crimson glow.

Luke was certain he heard the other chuckle.

"But it was not so, was it boy?" Vader asked, waving indifferently. "You had years to strike at us, but you did not, why? You were torn, one parent loyal and the other not. Yet you are loyal, even now, to both, and so you tarried."

Poisonous anger swelled in Luke. How _dare_ he!? How _dare_ this monster judge his mother and father!?

No one smeared the Specter, and that included his parents.

That included Sith Lords.

Another Force-push rose around Luke like a translucent-azure tidal wave, shrieking and writhing against the storm before crashing down on the Sith, sending him flying from the lower levels onto the beach below.

Pity; sand was a soft landing. Luke pursued, using the Force to leap far enough that he was practically flying, cutting easily through the tempest wailing around them.

Tall rocks dotted the beach. Luke aimed for one, flawlessly coming to rest atop it. Below, Vader had managed to catch himself, back-flipping to land on the stone monolith opposite Luke's.

He regarded the Luke with amusement. "But that is still not the full truth, is it boy? One of them, at least, is dead, but not by the Empire's doing, otherwise your retribution would have been instant, as it is now. And so, another party ended them—for they are both dead. Otherwise, an efficient professional such as yourself would not embark to become an assassin; none with compassion such as yours would dare endanger family by ruthlessly killing the blood of other's-for fear an avenger would come after your own. Is that not so?"

Luke ground his teeth, letting the anger warm him. "You… know… _nothing_," he ground out slowly, infusing each word with all the venom of the pain that was his past. "You exploit the blood of others, taking what is other's to enhance yourself. Where do you suppose Palpatine 'acquired' the wealth, and planets, and materials for your precious fleets that he gave you? Off…of…_others!_"

The last word was amplified to a deranged scream by the next Force wave Luke unleashed on him. The forest of leviathan rocks that dotted the beach were reduced to shattered fragments by Luke's display of power and rage. It took all of Vader's power, Luke could sense, to not be flung to the other side of the planet.

Cerulean power bombarded the area mercilessly, wave after wave impaling all around it.

But, Vader's own considerable power ensured he was only thrown a good 10 meters. Luke stomped after him.

He wasn't through yet.

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Vader was immensely pleased.

The boy had such anger in him! Just longing to be released!

That aura of power that shone around him like solar corona grabbed onto the boy's anger with fervor and repaid it more than Vader could ever have imagined.

The boy wasn't even fully trying; his anger was sparked but not wholly consuming him. But, when Vader had him, and showed the boy what his full rage could bring—

What a Sith the child would make! He would easily overshadow him and Palpatine put together!

And Vader was learning; the boy was slowly, fragment by fragment, revealing his past.

It was dismally clear to Vader: the boy had been exploited, early in life and to an extreme degree.

It was the only explanation for why the Specter had reacted with such raw emotion, such empathy for others who he perceived as being treated the same.

He knew how they felt; it was that simple.

And his word choice; the subconscious was at times, painfully accurate and the boy had used the word himself: exploited.

And so, he must have been taken from his family, perhaps there had been conflict between his parents beforehand, which had led to his belated joining of the rebellion; he'd needed time to come to terms with his lineage. And so, after he was taken, he'd suffered in some way, some means that had left him feeling abused and taken advantage of.

But, how? And who had the power to do so to the _Specter?_ Surely attempting to manipulate an assassin of his caliber—

But, Vader supposed many would have considered Palpatine mad for trying to subjugate Anakin Skywalker.

Wait. A terrible epiphany seized Vader.

A young man misused and eventually forced into a suit of armor….

He watched the shadowy figure close in on him, and saw himself.

And the Force whispered one more tiny revelation into Vader's thoughts, one tidbit of truth that made the realization all the more awful.

He waited until the boy was only a handful of strides from him before asking quietly:

"You were a slave, weren't you boy?"

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When Vader watched the apparition stop and rivet in shock, the Sith had his answer.

The Specter had been a slave; ergo, his family must have been murdered, probably in some raid, and him too young to be a threat, was sold like chattels.

Being reduced to mere property—another's property; a feeling Vader was all too familiar with.

For some reason, he couldn't go on. The dark side goaded at him to continue fanning the boy's rage, gave him utterances to incite more of the boy's extravagant wrath—

But Vader couldn't force himself to do so.

Specter faltered, catching Vader's hesitation.

"You were taken," Vader surmised, his tone contemplative, but not antagonizing, "but you managed to escape, how long were you a prisoner?"

"Too long," the child instantly replied, bitterness palpable in his voice. Vader understood. The boy cocked his head to one side. "What difference does it make to you?" He paused, and even with his washed out appearance Vader caught the tiny smirk.

"I suppose I'm not worth it anymore," the Specter humorlessly remarked, his tone flippant and sharp, "after all, imagine the scandal of _Darth Vader_ having an apprentice who was a former slave. Galactic terror or not, you'd never be taken seriously again."

Vader caught him by surprise again by chuckling. "No one would dare take _me_ with anything but seriousness. And you forget your own reputation child."

"Only because no one knows," the child reflexively spit out, and then tensed, realizing too late what he'd said it seemed.

Vader watched the boy's shoulders drop as realization hit him like a Force push of its own.

After all, if Vader let the word out what the terrifying Specter once was and the boy's assumption was proven true, it would destroy his professional visage forever.

And they both knew that.

The child though, much to Vader's approval, straightened, and stared at him coolly. "Was that what you were after, dark lord? After all, you prodded me into attacking you for _something_. I doubt you just wanted me to level out your beach."

Vader grinned at his sarcasm. The child's company was thoroughly refreshing, even when he was blasting Vader out of his own castle.

"Far from it child," was the even reply, and Vader watched with satisfaction as the child fought to keep his body still. He clearly wanted to move, to pace perhaps.

Which meant he was nervous.

Yes, realizing too late you'd been tricked would make anyone uneasy. And surely the conniving Specter had already deduced possible motives Vader had for doing as such.

"Do not be alarmed child," Vader said at length, watching as the boy carefully moved around Vader, as if to scrutinize him. "Seeking your end is not in my plans."

That caused the child to freeze in his tracks. "Plans? But…" he shook his head in disbelief, "you know now—"

"But it changes nothing," Vader emphasized, "you will still come with me one day," he gestured to Bast looming tall behind them, "here you will be safe from the Emperor while I train you."

The apparition chuckled again. "Safe? There's no such thing." He paused, as if struck by a thought and recoiled from Vader. "Of course," he softly avowed, "it's a race, isn't it? You have to find me before the Emperor does. You want to take his place, and need an apprentice to do it, but—"

"It is his desire that you replace me, yes," Vader finished gravely, "only, young one, if Palpatine finds you first, he will not allow you to decide freely."

The other scoffed. "And you would?"

"I'm offering to you even now."

"And if I refuse?"

"You will wish you had should the Emperor find you first."

He saw the other wince, as if recalling something, and Vader's suspicion was confirmed that they boy had appeared to his master before, even as he was now to Vader.

"It is foolish of you, child to walk the Force with such impunity," he somberly pointed out, "the Force has chosen to shield you now, but I doubt it has always for you in times past."

The child surprised him by shaking his head. "No," he dourly confessed, "it hasn't."

"Then you have met the Emperor. Tell me, did he offer you a chance to come of your own choice?"

"Not any more than you did on the Death Star," was the quipped reply.

Vader smirked behind his mask. "Your power, I admit, did surprise me greatly. However, power such as yours in the Emperor's hands would mean the end of your friends. You will be the instrument he uses to destroy the rebellion. Is that your preference?"

"And you would do differently?" was the caustic challenge.  
"Young one, it is clear you do not yet realize your importance," Vader said, stepping towards him, "you have only begun to discover your power." He waved to the stars over their heads. "Join me, and I will complete your training—"

The other stepped back, the idea alarming him obviously.

-"with our combined strength, we can end this pointless conflict, and bring order to the galaxy."

"That isn't an answer," the other bit out, "what would become of my friends?"

"As my right hand, that would be for you to decide."

The boy's eyes narrowed again, doubtful. Vader pressed.

"Child, the Emperor's time is coming to an end. Your choice is clear; if you remain with the rebellion, in time, I will find another protégé. You will miss your chance. I will overthrow the Emperor without you and take his place—but when I rule the galaxy with another as my second, you will have no leverage, no power of rank to aid your friends. You will simply be another rebel. How will you negotiate then on their behalf?"

"I guess protocol would say I'd go through your underling to get to you."

"And if he refused?"

A mirthless chuckle. "I meant 'go through' in the literal sense. He wouldn't have a head to refuse with."

Vader couldn't stop the pleased smile. He did love the child's determination—and efficiency.

He advanced toward the boy again but this time the other didn't back away. About an arm's length apart he halted. The child regarded him, Vader could perceive that much, but wished for the hundredth time he could see the boy.

"It is a pity, should you refuse again," Vader said ponderingly. "You would be a great right hand."

Something about the child sobered at that. "Perhaps," he softly returned, "but I saw what you did to those Jedi."

Vader squashed the rage that bubbled up at the mention of them. "Traitors, all of them," he rumbled darkly, "and they richly deserved their fate."

"And me?" the child emotionlessly asked.

Without thinking, Vader took his chin, too angry and resolute to realize he was able to touch the child, phantasm or not and firmly told him, "You are far too young to be a part of what they did; you share no portion then, of the blame—or the retribution."

"'Retribution,'" the child echoed, "you mean, this is all _personal_ then?"

The shock jolted them both back to themselves, to the boy the revelation and to Vader, that it was his turn it seemed, to say too much.

The boy jerked free of Vader's grasp, taking a step back. "The Jedi lived a code of selflessness," he warily said, "what could people like that have done then, to you? _Especially_ to you?"

His arms were partly raised in a defensive position as if to ward off Vader's response. Vader let out a menacing hiss against his own volition.

"'Selflessness,'" he said as if tasting the word, "no, child, the Jedi are hardly that. They are expert betrayers; they will find what it is you hold most dear and then take it from you. They will speak words of honor and 'the greater good,' while they rob you of your very self. When they are through with you child, you will be reduced to nothing; less than nothing even."

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Whoever wrote that the truth was always beautiful was an idiot, Luke decided.

"…less than nothing even."

That was truth, from Vader's viewpoint. Ben had told him once that 'many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.'

Vader's point of view then considered the Jedi treacherous liars and thieves of the worst degree, taking from people that which they held most precious.

And his words and tone could only mean one thing: they had, from where he stood, done the very same—to him.

And so, he hated them. Hated them enough to hunt them across the galaxy and kill them without mercy.

Luke had always assumed the Jedi Purge was by Palpatine's command strictly, but no, it seemed Vader not only volunteered for the task but perhaps kept the hunt alive long after the Emperor would have been satisfied to end it.

"…reduced to nothing."

Had the Jedi 'reduced Vader to nothing'? If so, how?

"You're…_Vader_," Luke said, too shocked to articulate it better, "how could anyone possibly hurt _you?_"

Vader's voice was low and darker than a thousand black holes. "It was not me."

Someone he cared for then, Luke surmised, numbed at the second-later understanding that Vader was capable of caring for someone.

But it was the only explanation that made any sense. Luke felt lightheaded as the Force whispered to him it was so; it was far too many revelations to take in.

He tried to grasp the concept of Vader being anything other than a cold-blooded murderer, but then caught the ethereal glint in the optic lenses on Vader's mask.

Him; the faint light was his ghostly appearance.

The galaxy considered him a soulless monster too.

Was Vader so different from him then? In light of this? Were they so dissimilar?

Luke now wondered.

But, why had Ben not said anything of this before now? Was it because Vader was telling the truth? Had Ben concealed this from him all along?

Luke lifted his gaze from the pounded beach to Vader, who had sensed his need to take this all in.

"You are astonished," Vader observed, "it is to be expected."

"Why did you never give them a chance to make amends," Luke asked, pulling at straws, "let them have the chance to make things right?"

"Because even the Jedi cannot raise the dead," was the ground out answer.

Killed; whoever he'd cared for was dead then.

"I see," was all he could think to say. "I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize for their crimes," was the blunt reply, but Luke started at how tired Vader sounded.

Instinct told him it wasn't from the battle.

But from life.

Briefly Luke thought of Fade. Would she know of a way to raise the dead?

It was amazing he'd never thought to ask her until now. Even so, her powers were limited by coming into the material reality, she'd told him so long ago.

But still, if there was a chance?

"Do not seek to make restitution for them," Vader said, as if able to read his thoughts, "there is nothing you can do, in any case."

"You don't know that," Luke retorted.

"I have already sought any and all means, child," Vader countered with finality, "were a path available, I would have found it by now, I've had all of your lifetime to search."

Luke wasn't even eighteen yet, though Empire Day was coming soon. "But what if-?"

"_Kid!? Kid!? Wake up!"_

It was Han's voice.

Why did Luke suddenly feel seized by vertigo.

Vader was reaching for him, but suddenly getting farther away; Luke was spinning in all directions, vertigo made him nauseous—

Arms were abruptly shaking him.

"Kid! Kid! For kriff's sake, wake up!"

Luke groaned as his eyes darted open. Han was leaning over him, jostling his shoulders hard.

"Stop! Han! Stop! I'm—"

"Finally!" the smuggler cut-in; he turned and yelled out into the cock-pit. "He's awake—finally!"

Ghost rushed in, sans the helmet.

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**A/N: **I was gonna keep going, but this sequence deserves its own chapter. So, how did you like their first real talk? Please let me know; more is coming, but I wanna know what you think. Many thanks and also, I'd love to know where my reviewers are FROM! So, if you'd be ok with putting your country in your review, I don't need cities or anything privacy is important after all, but I'm not very well traveled and other places do intrigue me, so if you're ok with it, I'd love to know! Till next time!


	8. Chapter 8: Assembling

**A/N:** Ok, so I got a question from 'Crazy' of why did Luke Force-push Vader off the balcony and isn't that a little extreme? A: yes, it is, but remember: Luke wasn't thinking, only reacting. And as his parents are the core of why he does what he does and why he became the Specter, his parents are THE delicate subject of his life and Vader prodding him was like igniting a nuclear bomb—BOOM! And Vader got it. So, I hope that helps to clarify. All in all, ppl seemed to like Luke's reaction, so I'm happy about that, I thought of it off the cuff—it wasn't in the storyboard, but it was fun to write! LOL. Plz also check out FateofChaos' fabulous review on Ch. 6…love it! It kept me laughing a long time!

Also, as you can tell I temporarily changed the cover image for this fic. It's the deviant art pic that I had mentioned earlier. Apparently, some ppl were having trouble viewing the pic, so I'm gonna leave this up for a few days so y'all can see it. It's by someone called "Punchatz" and was copyrighted back in 1980, so it's perhaps conceptual art. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it.

Finally this chapter I dedicate to FireShifter who has been a wonderfully loyal reader/reviewer for her belated b-day. So, happy b-day FS and I hope you enjoy your chapter.

Anyways, SW not mine, blah- blah- blah; onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.8— Assembling _

Vader stood there for a long time, taking in where the young assassin's apparition had stood, trying to understand _him_—Darth Vader.

No one ever sought to _understand_ Vader; only obey in order to stay alive.

Vader couldn't stop marveling at it; how a child of such dark background could be filled with such compassion.

The boy was truly a paradox of the first degree: a 'cold' killer possessing a warm heart.

How could anyone _survive_ in such a state? How had his duel natures not driven the child mad?

Vader pushed the thought aside; he'd learn in time. He'd learnt so much about the boy already, after just one encounter.

It was incredible, firstly, that the child had come to him at all. Vader pondered why. Surely the Jedi had uncovered that the child could Force-walk and encouraged him to practice it in the hopes of one day using it—and him—as a weapon against the Sith. The assassin had perhaps traveled to Bast (not expecting Vader's abrupt appearance) to better comprehend him by exploring his home. It would fit with a trained killer's modus operandi: learn about the target before striking.

Study the prey.

Vader clenched his jaw; he was no one's prey—least of all the Jedi's.

He was always, always the hunter.

He strode to his formidable castle, musing over their conversation. The Specter had become a little less mysterious—and at the same time a great deal more intriguing. The boy had once been a slave, certainly in his childhood—as Vader had once been—and still carried the scars of his time as mere property.

Vader ground his teeth, wondering yet again why he had let the Toydarian live.

It mattered not; surely the junk dealer was long dead in any case. And killing him would involve setting foot on Tatooine; far too high a price even to kill his former 'owner.'

He'd simply let the inevitable unfold instead.

However, the Specter had somehow escaped his fate and as no one had ever come forward to claim ownership of the boy, it could only mean they were either too afraid…or were dead.

Instinct told Vader it was the latter.

The Specter was so very efficient after all.

So, he'd been enslaved, probably after the murders of his family, had slain his captors and freed himself…but how? He was so very young. Was it possible that the boy had stolen his armor and weapons from his captors? Had they been assassins too…had he used their armaments against them in order to liberate himself?

The dark side murmured his thoughts were taking the right course, but had not reached the full of it yet.

Vader considered. He'd fought the boy, the child was an expert amongst experts, the most elite of them all in fact…he'd been trained then to a torturous degree—it was the only means to such a level of skill. Be that the case—wait.

The boys' words flung themselves back at Vader_: "you exploit the blood of others to enhance yourself….you…know…nothing."_

Such raw bitterness, such agony in the boy's tone, saturating each word; it spoke volumes to the dark lord. But, the boy was solid, was resolute…it didn't match the tone of voice.

So…the child had lowered his guard then, for that brief moment, interesting. For such a durasteel will to waver could only mean whatever he'd endured had to have been beyond imagination.

But then…what? What kind of exploitation had the child experienced?

"_You exploit the blood of others"_ -an interesting way to phrase it. Had he meant he wasn't alone then? There had been other children? Likely. Meaning perhaps the boy been the only to escape?

Vader's thoughts returned to the boy's armor, his weapons…and that creature:

The strange Force manifestation that had bonded itself to the boy; where had it come from? And how did it fit into all of this?

Vader had no shortage of things to mull over as he returned to his fortress.

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Palpatine meditated on what he now knew as his Hand knelt before him.

"I beg your forgiveness, my master," she whispered, her eyes locked on the floor.

The Emperor scanned the data pad resting in his one hand as his other held the gnarled cane.

"This failure is a heavy loss to the Empire, Shira Brie," he avowed at length, "but not an impossible one to recuperate from. The rebels and their new leader shall pay in time."

"What is your command then, my master?" the tawny-haired girl asked solemnly.

"You will remain here for the gala," the Emperor replied, "Empire Day is but a few days away and you are due to make an appearance in Court. After, join Vader on his search for the rebellion. He is in need of…watching. Do you understand?"

Brie lifted her peridot eyes from the ornate marble flooring to her master. She was as aware of Vader's questionable loyalties as Mara. "Indeed, master; as you will."

He gestured for her to rise, which she did. After a low bow, she departed.

Palpatine paced his favored throne room slowly, considering the reports both Shira Brie and Roganda Ismaren (the only survivors of the Fondor attack aside from Mara) had made, as well as what he'd perceived in Jade's mind as he 'healed' her from her mental liberation.

So, it seemed the Specter had quite an entourage of followers, the most intriguing of them all being the cyber-falcon and the strange phantom-cat that followed him so devotedly.

Whatever the Specter was, he was certainly in possession of a most tantalizing past, to have acquired such partners in crime.

He'd watched the Specter fight through Jade's eyes; had heard his kind words to her and felt as Jade had the effective use of Force power the ghostly cat exuded to rip away his Force binds.

He hissed lividly; how, how had a mere _boy_ recruited such allies?

And far more importantly, how had a creature manifested from the Force itself eluded his gaze for so long? And…why had the Force sent her? For the creature was surely a 'her.'

The Emperor's toxic gaze darkened as he turned to regard his capital city outside the monolithic windows.

The galaxy was _his_; he'd captured it from the weakling Jedi and the mewling Galactic Republic and no one: assassin, feline apparitions or hacking birds was going to steal it from him.

Jade's observations were more thorough than he'd hoped for. And he'd frankly not expected any of the forces he'd sent to Fondor to survive; Brie and Ismaren had both surprised him by returning with minimal damage. All the better; they'd proven ready then for more formidable assignments.

In any case, with the information they'd gleaned for him about the boy and his mysterious followers, he'd begin now the painstakingly thorough process of uncovering exactly who this Specter truly was, and where both he and his followers came from.

All the better to prepare for the day when they confronted one another…and Palpatine turned him to the dark side, and in so doing, harnessed the boy's allies as well.

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"So, what was that all about?" Han asked, arms folded.

Luke sat up on the cot as Ghost knelt down to examine him. "What was what about?"

Solo rolled his eyes. "Nobody could wake you up: not me, not the cat, the bird, nobody. Not for an _hour_. What happened? You working that creepy Force power again? Could you at least give us a _warning_ next time?"

Luke groaned. "I didn't intend to do anything; I just wanted to doze a little."

Ghost leveled him a look, her oval face set in grave lines. "Where did you go?"

"'Go'?" Han echoed warily.

Luke put his head down. "Bast Castle."

Han gaped. "Vader's Bast Castle!?"

"Is there another Han?" Luke deadpanned.

Before Han could launch into a speech about 'are you crazy!?' and 'what are you talking about!?' Ghost pulled Luke up and said: "We landed at headquarters a few minutes ago; let's check in and then you can tell us all what happened."

"No," Luke retorted, dragging his feet so Ghost had to stop yanking at him. "Only you and Han know."

"And Noc and Fade"—Ghost amended, and as if on cue, both of them flew in.

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Luke plopped himself back on the cot, and slowly, softly recounted for them the conversation.

Han, to Luke's amazement, was too stunned for words when it was over. Ghost however; her large misty turquoise eyes were wide with realization.

"I can hardly believe it," she whispered, sitting just across Luke on a crate, "we all believed Vader's hatred of the Jedi was because he was Sith—and it's not like that at all."

Luke gravely shook his head. "No; Vader doesn't hate the Jedi because he's Sith, he _became_ a Sith because he hates the Jedi. Whoever she was, he cared for her enough to become their executor for almost two decades."

"That's just great," Han muttered, "so how long do you think this 'mercy' of his will apply to you?"

Luke gave him a bemused look.

"C'mon kid," Han emphasized, "Vader may have said you weren't to blame, but while the man never changes his suit, he does change his mind—and often. He asked you to join him, really?"

Luke nodded, his shoulders weighed down with the reality of it.

"And you refused—again it sounds like?"

Yes; because in order for his conversation with Vader to make any sense, he had to incorporate some of his previous encounters with the dark lord.

"You know what kind of reputation his patience has?"

The tone was blunt and sarcastic.

Luke sighed and nodded again. "He doesn't have any."

"Exactly," Han retorted with a dramatic gesture, "and when you say 'no' once too many, you'll be the next 'Jedi' he goes after."

Ghost waved a slender ivory hand. "It's not Vader that concerns me as much as the Emperor. He—"

Warhead marched in; his boots soundless and so only Fade turning her head alerted them. They fell silent as he pulled off his helmet, revealing a coffee-skinned man around 45 years with eye patch.

"We're all gathered, just waiting on you," the man said dutifully, tipping his head for them to follow.

Han and Ghost gave Luke a '_we're not done yet_,' look and rose.

Noc took a seat on Luke's shoulder and Fade floated after them as they trailed behind Warhead.

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Luke regarded the group as they each sat in their designated places at the circular table in the briefing room.

A holo-proj shaped as a half-sphere sat in the silver table's center, and from it dividing illuminators sectioned the metal table for each person's "work area."

Luke gave Ghost a look that asked her to head the briefing; he had too much on his mind.

The other made no outward sign of noticing, but fluidly stood, reaching just a third of a head higher than Luke's height and plunged in.

"Reports from our outer territory's network have come in: while we've nailed all Rim targets…" she pursed her full maroon lips in concern, "we're now receiving intelligence that in fact, the Emperor, and perhaps some higher faction under-lords, are crafting super-weapons in the Core Systems."

Han cursed, Warhead glowered grimly.

Link and Mouse didn't react; they'd received the Intel and so already knew.

Luke took in his team as Ghost went on, detailing what the most likely places are where the new super-weapons were being constructed and who were most probably the overseeing parties involved.

He never forgot how he met the _Solidarity_ team. Link and Mouse he'd snatched after they'd defected from their 'leader' a crazed super-tech genius who had gone rogue. Unfortunately, Link and Mouse were kidnapped—like Luke—when mere toddlers, and while they weren't related, neither was able to track down living family after being freed. It was presumed their 'buyer' had killed their parents and perhaps targeted them because they didn't have numerous relatives who'd be searching for them once they'd gone missing.

It was a common trick of slavers after all.

So, once Link and Mouse had escaped, Luke had come across them as mercenaries had uncovered the pair hiding out. Luke had killed them and Link and Mouse had been so grateful (as well as terrified-impressed by his skill) they'd offered to work for him on the spot.

But, they had had no place to call their own—until Warhead.

A year after coming across Link and Mouse, Luke had made his first visit to Naboo after the hackers had uncovered his mother's true identity. After purchasing her demolished skiff from the junk dealer, Luke had decided to honor her by helping her people somehow.

And so he'd gone right to the source: their current reigning queen.

Kylantha had retired, having served three terms. She'd been the Empire's selected ruler once queen Apailana had been assassinated by the Empire for 'treason.' And after Kylantha stepped down, Naboo had been allowed a real election again, the Emperor content that they had "learned their lesson."

And so 12 year old Queen Rainhadama had been elected; a quiet, reserved girl from the northern country, she had seemed docile enough that the Empire had approved her ascension to the throne.

But, Luke and Fade had both sensed a patriot concealed in Rainhadama's tiny frame, and so had snuck that night into the Theed Royal palace, easily evading the security volunteers- then led by none other than Gregar Typho, once the captain of security for Padmé Amidala Skywalker.

Luke only half-listened to Ghost answer questions about the Intel details, who was most likely supplying the raw materials and so on as he recalled that night:

_He and Fade scaled the walls of the shining tan-gold palace under a full moon peeking out behind thick veils of silvery clouds._

_Luke shimmied his small frame easily, finding places where the stone had worn unevenly, providing hand-holds and placing for his booted feet._

_It was a moderate exercise, ascending to the Queen's bedchambers._

_She had left a window open to let in fresh night air. How convenient._

_The pre-adolescent queen was combing her long hair out while seated primly at a white-stone and silvery metal vanity. Luke crept up behind her, melding with the shadows of her dimly-lit chamber and wrapped an arm around both of hers, the other around her mouth before she could alert anyone._

"_I'm not here to hurt you, but I can't let you scream. It's imperative we talk alone," he whispered fiercely into her ear as her delicate body shook from fear and surprise. "If I let you go, you have to swear on your royal honor you won't call for help—because I need _your_ help."_

_She stopped trembling at the plea—exactly as Luke had hoped._

"_Do you swear to at least here me out? If you refuse, I'll go, but you can't call your security."_

_She nodded against his arm._

_He released her._

_The tawny-haired queen slowly turned to him, her teal eyes still glassy and wide. She started when he emerged without ceremony from the darkness._

"_You're…you're so young," she murmured, incredulous._

_He could only smile at that…considering they were clearly the same age._

_She twisted her lips and blushed, no doubt reading his face._

"_Who are you?" she asked, making Luke blink._

_Of course, of kriffing course he'd plan the way in and every word he'd say to the monarch ahead of time…but forgot an alias._

_Thinking fast, Luke recalled he'd been 'Project Specter' back at the facility._

_It'd do for the time being._

"_I'm called the Specter," he said with a low bow._

_She wouldn't believe the truth till later on—the galaxy considered Luke Skywalker long dead after all._

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"_Why are you here?" was the next question._

_That was when Warhead entered. The outer room's door creaked as it'd opened, alerting Luke. The queen jerked her attention to the noise and then back to Luke, obviously fearing for whoever was coming. Luke raised a forestalling hand though, as she made to prevent their entering._

"_It's all right; I sent my associate to find your head of security—he's an old friend of my mother's."_

_The queen's shoulders dropped out of pure amazement._

_She let out a squeak of alarm when Fade phased through the door with Typho in tow, Fade's tail entwined around his arm._

_He let out a soft gasp of shock, and Fade turned and glowered reprovingly at him._

I told him to not use the doors, friend, _she said allowing all present to hear her, _that it would make unnecessary sound, but he heeded not my words.

"_What is going on here?" Typho demanded, reflexively reaching for his holstered blaster, only to find it in Fade's tail. _

_Luke only grinned at his annoyed exhale. "I'm the Specter, you are Captain Typho?"_

_The other stonily nodded, while appraising the Queen for injuries._

"_I've not harmed her," Luke pertly said, "please; we have so much to discuss."_

_And so, it had begun, after both Rainhadama and Typho had refused to sit, Luke did, finding a spot on a settee facing the other two; he lowered his shoulders and made his posture as non-threatening as possible. _

_He had to appear the supplicant, not an intruder._

"_You said you're the son of a friend of Typho's?" the queen tentatively asked._

_Typho jolted at that, and threw Luke a wary, suspicious glare._

_Luke nodded. "Yes; though neither of you will believe me. But, I'm willing to undergo a blood test to prove it—but only if you both swear that you won't copy the sample and it'll be returned to me afterwards."_

_He had to keep his trail invisible after all; and his blood left too large a homing marker—grossly altered as it was._

_Typho folded his arms with guarded curiosity. "And your parent is…?"_

"_Was," Luke amended gravely, "you knew my mother—in fact, you guarded her once, before her death." He looked up from the floor._

_The color had drained from Typho's face. Luke watched as the pieces came together in the other's one good eye. He stepped forward, scrutinizing Luke anew, as if seeing him now for the first time._

"_You…I should have seen it," the older man whispered, "you look just like him—Anakin Skywalker." He crouched down before Luke, methodically examining his face._

_The other sighed, as if a long-held suspicion was just confirmed. "I knew it. I…I always told myself though, nearly till the end, I must be wrong—but no; she couldn't hide it from me." _

_He was talking to the elaborate carpet. The single dark eye lifted to meet Luke's gaze, filled with unshed tears._

"_I…can see her in you too, you know," he added, voice choked with emotion. "You have her mouth, some of her brow and nose. But I see mostly your father in you."_

_There was so much Luke wanted to say, he'd practiced his dialogue to perfection; but now, it abandoned him._

"_I'd…" he put his head down, stomach cringing at possible rejection. After all, talking about his mother was obviously very difficult for this man._

_He must have loved her, Luke realized painfully._

_But, Typho proved discerning as well as loyal. "You want to know about her."_

_Luke nodded numbly, his own feelings threatening to overpower him, he discreetly swallowed the huge knot in his throat._

_He wanted to cry—like an orphaned child would. He'd not admit it aloud, but in that moment, sitting with people who had loved his mother, or in the queen's case, loved her memory, it was too much. _

_He hadn't expected this; his training was so thorough after all._

_Apparently not enough—though, he was far from bothered by it; it meant Dromerick hadn't robbed him of all of his soul at least._

"_I have no memory of my mother," Luke quietly professed, his lips and mouth suddenly drying. "I never knew her."_

_In his peripherals, the queen sniffed back her own tears, her flawless face lined with deep sympathy._

_Typho rested his hands on Luke's, his one eye blinking at how cold they were. "Well, after we take you to her family, we'll all be able to tell you everything about her, all you want to know."_

_Luke's throat closed. No; he hadn't expected this either._

Some heartless assassin he would have made_, he mused dryly._

"_No," he emotionlessly said._

"_No?" Typho expression was lost._

_Luke shook his head, tousling golden hair. "I can't…yet." He turned away to regain his focus. "There's so much…you'll understand if you let me explain."_

_Typho nodded, which the queen mimicked as she sat beside Luke, putting a fragile looking hand on his shoulder._

_It was such a minute gesture, so why did the incomprehensible tears seem to jump in response? _

_Realizing his self-control was dissolving, Luke charged headlong into his life-story. Beginning at the homestead, what fragments he recalled, his aunt and uncle's murders, being sold and then given as a bonus to the assassins…and then Dromerick._

_Typho gulped hard several times, clutching Luke's hands harder and harder, as if by doing so he could protect Luke from his past. He looked ready to wretch._

_Queen Rainhadama wept softly, stroking Luke's hair and shoulders consolingly, like a doting mother._

_Fade curled up against Luke's other side, whispering encouragement and support to him through their bond._

_Luke didn't allow himself to cry, even as he felt tears leak down his face, he would swallow down the sobs and push on._

_No amount of weeping could undo what had been done, not to him._

_And it wouldn't raise his mother from the dead._

_When he finished, confessing he'd been to his mother's mausoleum already and had seen the Naberrie's there, Typho nodded in understanding._

"_You're convinced you'll be hunted," he deduced, validated by Luke's nod, "and you don't want to endanger them."_

"_I have to be invisible," Luke replied somberly, "at least for the immediate future. I…with my father's Force sense, Fade said she'll train me. She has been already; but, until I know the people who did this to me are really all dead, and it's safe for Force users to walk openly again…I can't risk it. But," he turned to the queen and passed her a meaningful look, "I…want to do something. For Naboo-for the galaxy. It's what mother would want."_

_The queen heard the unspoken question. "And you seek our aid?"_

"_What you're willing to give me, yes."_

"_What do you need?"_

_My, but wasn't she direct. Typho smiled in approval._

_Luke reeled as he belatedly realized that his being Padme Amidala's son was more than enough persuasion for the Naboo. Any carefully put together oratory paled in comparison. _

_They were a very sentimental people then; but deeply loyal too—even to those long gone._

_And so Luke unfolded his strategy for them. He wanted to create a base of operations on one of Naboo's moons, craft a cover for it, and from it…strike at the very heart of the Empire._

_However, it didn't end there, war created no shortage of needy. Luke also devised putting together vast amounts of funding to support the war orphans, those exiled from their worlds, the crippled casualties, and those in hiding from the Empire._

_A refuge as well as a headquarters; killing the Empire gradually, while caring for those caught in the cross-fire._

"_I realize Naboo is a pacifist world," he slowly admitted in the long silence that followed, "you'll probably want time to talk this over."_

_Typho shook his head suddenly and stood. "No, I don't need to think about it," he decided aloud, and surprised Luke by saluting him like a CO. "I'm in; Captain Typho at your service."_

_Rainhadama straightened at that, jolted out of her mournful state. "The captain…however preemptive," and Luke caught the hint of rebuke in her voice, "is correct. Senator Amidala, we never believed was killed by the Jedi. They were her friends and allies."_

_Typho ground his teeth, looking away. Yes, he had loved her—and blamed himself for her death, Luke intuited. _

"_But, we attempted once to resist the Empire," the queen sighed heavily, as if she could feel the weight of the deaths that had resulted, "we know now, the folly of it."_

_In other words: never again. _

_Luke nodded. "I don't mean to strike from Naboo—or openly for that matter. I was trained as an assassin, not a soldier. We'll attack from the shadows; we'll have no identifiable markings, no traceable factors. We'll literally be specters. The Empire can't fight an enemy that to them doesn't exist—except after the fact."_

_Typho seemed grim, and thoughtful. "I will help you however I can. Do you have any other team members—aside from the four?"_

_Luke shook his head._

"_Then I know some people who will want to be part of this."_

_Understanding lit in the queen's face. "You mean…Senator Amidala's handmaidens, don't you?"_

_Typho nodded. "I still keep in contact with the ones who survived. They all threw there lot in with the old resistance movement. They all believe the Empire is somehow responsible for Padmé's death—like I do. They'll join, out of her memory. Serving Padmé's son will give them purpose again."_

_So…that's why he had agreed so fast—with Luke's mother dead, he felt directionless. _

_Useless—the man needed someone to rally behind. And to him, Padmé's son was that someone._

_And so, in the dead of night, Typho had commed the remaining handmaidens using a secret frequency from the resistance days, telling them all to come at once—and they did._

_Two hours later, Luke and Fade, with Noc, Link and Mouse, sat in a secret meeting chamber beneath the Theed Royal Palace with Typho, the queen and Padmé's one-time handmaidens._

_Many of them had escaped execution and capture it seemed, and had been working with Typho on a supposed 'redemption' program to "prove to the Empire that they were merely pawns of Kylantha's and deep down were still loyal to Palpatine."_

_Luke hadn't known whether to laugh or gag. _

_And so he had been introduced that night to Sabé (his mother's double from the Federation blockade), Yané, Rabé, and Saché. _

_Luke and his new entourage had stayed in the palace's secret chambers several days while Typho and the queen behaved routinely by day and met with him and his new team by night to pool ideas and formulate. _

_After several days of sifting through suggestions, Typho made the keen point of if the Empire still doubted Naboo's loyalty, then why not build something that would seem to solidify their allegiance to the Emperor, but at the same time, could double as their headquarters?_

_All had agreed it an intriguing idea, but then it was Rainhadama who had suggested the Museum._

_What better pretense than to create a museum that would demonize the Federation and inadvertently applaud the Emperor for ultimately using the invasion to 'bring peace' to the galaxy? _

_One of the Lucrehulk ships from the Federation's invasion had been destroyed but large pieces of it had been cleared from orbiting Naboo. Rainhadama had gone before the Imperial Governor of the Chommell Sector and made the proposition to salvage the parts and rebuild the ship, but not as a functioning vessel per se, but as a museum which would serve to remind all visitors of the Trade Federation's vile deeds, but highlight how the then Senator Palpatine arose to power and assisted Queen Amidala in triumphing over them._

_The Governor had eagerly agreed, knowing he'd be the one to present the idea to the Emperor and get the credit for the idea. _

_Palpatine had been pleased at the suggestion, especially when the Governor had insisted he come to personally inspect its completion and conduct the opening ceremonies himself. Naturally, Queen Rainhadama had begged His Highness also, emphasizing it would be a crushing disappointment to 'his people' if the Emperor was not master of ceremonies._

_And so, while Luke, the handmaidens, Link, Mouse and Noc remained in hiding, concealed by Fade, the Lucrehulk vessel was built from the debris, eventually moved into orbit for final assembly. _

_And it pleased Luke to no end that the Empire paid for everything._

_However, Luke was hardly idle while their new headquarters was under construction. He, Noc and Fade would sneak out, Fade's power more than sufficient to wipe them from any Force detection, so Luke could have his mother's skiff altered._

_Through Link and Mouse, who had begun to put together their first 'work stations' in the secret chambers, Luke tracked down specialists more than capable of providing the materials and know-how to turn his mother's elegant skiff into an elegant vessel of invincible mayhem._

_Luke used multiple sources of course; ergo no one was able to determine what his end project was. He also communicated over audio only, no one ever saw him, and of course he was using vocabulators by then as well. _

_The same came with his armor. Many interesting pieces were stored on the ship Fade had taken from the facility just before it was destroyed. It provided the perfect baseline for Link and Mouse to get busy making armor and weapons for Luke's own…private work._

_That was the part he hadn't let the queen, handmaidens, or Typho in on—at least not yet._

_How could he explain to such gentle people he planned on assassinating all of the top Imperial officials, one by one? He'd said 'strike from the shadows,' but he hadn't explained how._

_He was certain that Typho had a good idea of Luke's true aim, and surely the handmaidens were at least on track to ascertain it…but he doubted the queen fully grasped his objective._

_But she surely would in time._

_However, they'd need funds; Link and Mouse could 'borrow' the credits they required for now…and Luke had no thoughts about abolishing that option in the future, but it was risky. _

_Far better if he earned the credits doing what he had been programmed to do._

_With the credits flowing in, he'd be able to finance all the ventures he desired: the refugee camps, the orphanages, the treatment centers—all in his mother's memory._

_He only hoped she'd be able to forgive him for how he would go about making it possible._

_And so, the Lucrehulk ship was raised from the dead, so to speak. Palpatine relished his 'victory' over Naboo's defiant spirit, this museum in his mind a symbol of their submission, and after the pomp and circumstance was over, Typho smuggled Luke and the others aboard via a 'shipment run.' _

_And so, _Solidarity_, their secret base, was born._

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**A/N: **Wow, this took some turns I hadn't expected and the flashback kinda took over. LOL. Oh well, y'all needed to know this stuff anyways! Anyhow, there's a bit of how it all came together, I hope you enjoy…and it's EXTRA LONG, so I expect some LONG reviews from y'all! Well, take care for now, till next time, enjoy it, and again, happy b-day to Fire Shifter and thanks to my wonderful readers and reviewers, you guys are VERY important to me…just wanted to tell you so!


	9. Chapter 9: Strategy

**A/N: **Hi all; well, as always, thanks for the love the last chapters received! I'm really so thankful that this fic continues to get some unflinching support! It really does mean a lot And I do want to reassure you guys that eventually this will line up with the ESB storyline, but we do need to cover a few more places and things before that happens, so please bear with me on this, but we will get there in a while. So, w/o further ado…onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch. 9— Strategy _

When the general silence fell over the group, Luke instinctively realized they were waiting on his thoughts.

He sighed; Vader and reminiscing over the past would have to wait, Palpatine was on the move and so they had to catch up or there'd be no future for any of them to live in.

"Link, Mouse," he began, staring stonily at the table.

They perked up.

"Find us an armada to fight with."

They looked at each other, then their boss. "Uh…" Link offered.

"And where are we supposed to 'find' this armada?" Mouse hesitantly asked.

He spun his hover-swivel around and met their eyes. "I don't care where," he flatly said, "build it, borrow it, commandeer it; maybe a mix of all the above—surprise me. But the Empire already outnumbers the rebels 10,000 to one and their 'navy'—such as it is- is pathetic at best. So, if they are constructing more super-weapons and the rebels don't even have more ships to put up against them—we all know how this will end, right?"

Nods all around.

"Then, you're gonna need more credits," Han bluntly put in, "lots more."

He sighed loudly at the raised eyebrows aimed his way. "If you start putting together a Starfleet for the rebels, do you all realize how much unwanted attention that'll cause? The Empire has spies everywhere—"

"And of course we here know nothing about spying," Ghost quipped.

"My point is," Han added, giving her stink-eye, "when this unwanted attention comes your way, you'll need to kill it, which might draw even more attention, or pay it to keep quiet. Bribes are getting more and more expensive by the day. So…I suggest when you go 'borrowing' ships for this navy you plan to assemble, 'borrow' a lot of credits while you're at it."

Luke grinned at Han, then turned to Link and Mouse. "Well, do you two have any donators in mind? Some generous Imps who'll 'aid' our cause?"

The pair traded conniving faces before Link pulled out a datapad and slid it across the table to Luke. "Well…" he mischievously opened up—

"We sorta already have been there and done that," Mouse finished deviously, "You see, while you were all out playing at the Imperial Amusement park"—

Han impaled them with a withering glare—

It went ignored, mostly—

Link batted innocent eyes at him…earning yet more wither—

"We may have accidently broken into several Governor's accounts and made a withdrawal…."

"But we left them all IOU's," Link mock-nicely added, "ya know, it's the thought that counts, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Han snarked, "so, while you're at it, why don't you 'borrow' from some Hutts?"

Shocked silence all around.

"Oh c'mon!" Han threw his hands up in disbelief. "Am I the only one here who knows they have no shortage of illegal credits!? It's not like they can run to the Empire and report they've been robbed 'cause their money's all illegal anyways. They're the perfect targets!"

Luke glanced to the hackers. "He's right guys."

Han sighed again. "Kid, we all already know I'm right. Ya don't need to keep"—

"Oh, don't worry," Link mock-consoled Han, "it's not that; he's just trying to boost your low self-esteem."

Han spit out the fizzy beverage he was sipping on. "My low what-!?"

Link and Mouse hopped up. "Well, check over the credits boss, we'll get to the rest," Link hastily said.

"Yeah, see how we try to anticipate your every whim, my liege?" Mouse said with a low, slow bow.

The pair laughed and quickly exited.

"Oh, no you don't!" Han leapt up and followed. "You two aren't going to throw your zingers at me with no return fire! Get back here!"

And the three were gone.

Chewie harned, shook his head.

"Chewie, you should get a metal just for putting up with him," Ghost observed dryly.

Chewie huffed a laugh.

"Okay people, let's try to stick to business here," Warhead reminded everyone, "we're on a tight schedule."

Luke nodded. "We need to start taking the offensive. There's no other options."

Murmured agreement all around.

Ghost leaned back in her chair, her pale aqua eyes thoughtful. "Well, if we're going to start picking Core targets to hit, we should update more of our Intel. I'll head back to Imperial Court—now that the palace has been repaired," she threw Luke a disapproving frown, "and see who I can wheedle the info from."

Luke scanned through the billions of credits Link and Mouse had safely tucked away in dummy accounts on the datapad. "Good idea; I'll go with you."

"Wait, what?" Warhead said, leaning forward, face lined with concern.

Chewie harned in disagreement.

The Handmaidens looked ready to object as well.

Luke raised a hand, still reading the lit screen. "Look, Ghost told the Emperor at her last visit that her 'cousin' would be making a visit soon," he peered at her, "isn't that right?"

Ghost grimly nodded. "Yes, he was probing as to why none of my 'relatives' never made an appearance; he seemed to be implying that perhaps they thought themselves superior, so I had to say something to appease him or raise suspicion."

She exhaled in frustration.

"So, if this cousin of yours never shows up, it will raise suspicion," Luke emphasized, passing a stare all around, and taking in the defeated looks, "and while you're mining for the super-weapons, I can sift through the Court and see who might be harboring rebel sympathies; see if we can't recruit some new allies."

Warhead looked away, grimacing. "I still don't like it; you might be recognized."

Luke opened his mouth to object, but Warhead cut him off. "You look too much like your father."

"Then I'll change my appearance to look more like Ghost."

Ghost nodded. "Good idea." She stood. "I'll get some disguises ready for both of us."

She strode out.

Warhead's one eye held Luke fast as he made to stand as well. "You'd better be careful," he ground out.

Luke knew it wasn't from anger, but from fear. Typho still blamed himself for not going with Luke's mother—and his not protecting her caused her death, from his viewpoint.

Ben's words flitted across Luke's mind again: 'our own point of view.'

"I will," Luke promised gravely, his tone saying: _it wasn't your fault—for the billionth time_.

Typho's gaze sobered more. "I'm holding you to that." Translation: _yes it was—for the billionth time. And I won't let you join her._

Luke only nodded, taking in the handmaidens' equally nervous faces as he left the room.

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Ghost bee-lined for one of the large storage rooms on the far side of _Solidarity_.

Large parts of the 'museum' were sectioned off; it was made plain early on the entire ship would not be open for tours as they had told Naboo's Governor that it would cost too much to keep all of the ship open and maintained—even with droids—and it just wouldn't be practical time-length-wise when giving tours.

Ergo, it was agreed upon that key sections of the Lucre-hulk ship would be kept immaculate for the tourists, and the rest would be kept 'acceptable.'

Little did the Empire know that the 'taped-off' sections of _Solidarity_ were in fact the team's living quarters, War Room, storage areas, and work stations where Link and Mouse operated their 'business ventures.' The handmaidens all took turns acting as curator, careful to not allow any strays to venture where they shouldn't—though all secret parts of _Solidarity_ were kept barred from the public by secret access codes, hand-print or retina-verifiers and so on.

Layers of security kept _Solidarity_'s secret very well concealed—from both sides of the war.

It was safer that way.

Ghost opened a few closets and trunks of clothing perfectly stowed away that would be appropriate for a young lord to wear this season. After all, if her cover was a high-born lady, her cousin would most logically be a lord. Their names, fake records and such were already prepared, thanks to Link and Mouse, it was merely attending to the visages now.

She had already selected some gowns one of her rank would be expected to don for the coming gala celebrating Empire Day. As she pulled out some ceremonial robes and cloaks for Luke, she mulled over how bizarre it was, that they had ended up together.

And yet, how preordained at the same time.

While the team of Solidarity knew the 'pertinent' facts of Luke's background, how he'd met Fade, Noc and then Han, Biggs and such, Ghost had insisted that they only know the barest of info on her.

Luke was fully versed on the gory details of her life, as he'd treaded similar waters himself, so she felt comfortable with his knowing; not so with the others.

Officially, she and Luke had literally 'run into each other' shortly after he'd escaped the facility and began to hunt down the few strays who had escaped its destruction.

No one could be allowed to survive; if the hybridization research lived on to find their way into Underworld hands—or worse, Imperial—there'd be no stopping the Sith Empire…ever.

And so, they had hunted, together, after meeting at the hideout of one of the survivors.

Ghost recalled with a grimace just how paralyzed with amazement she and Luke had been when they both realized the other was an escaped science experiment too.

When Dromerick had the epiphany that perhaps it was possible to augment someone who was not Force sensitive with the organs, tissues and synthesized compounds enabling one to become Force sensitive, he'd established a separate compound not too far from Luke's where Operation: Force Ghost was created.

The objective, aside from forging unnatural Force wielders, was to see if it were possible to craft a Force sensitive capable of existing with perfect invisibility to other Force users.

A Force-Ghost was the term Dromerick had coined: a completely undetectable Force user.

Ghost was the culmination of that experiment.

But she, like Luke, had also fought to free herself, because she too had been forced to kill, to slaughter and destroy, for the sake of Dromerick's 'trials' to ensure his work was successful.

She stood, her arms full of expensive, noble-born garb and turned.

Luke was standing in the doorway.

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"How long have you been standing there?" she tonelessly asked.

Luke repressed the sigh. She was like this more often than not: trying to be invisible—even from him.

"Long enough," was all he said, and moved to take her bundle, which she allowed.

"Please tell me you're not going to do anything…typical," she said.

"Typical?"

"Of you."

Luke looked away, so she couldn't—mostly—see his grin. "Don't worry, I—"

"I always worry when you tell me not to."

"I know. But you don't have to."

Those garnet lips twisted in a look, the rest of her oval face frowning. "You mean like you didn't have to level a good chunk of the Imperial Palace?"

Now Luke sighed, because she was right. "I know; I…I didn't plan on—"

"Our best weapon is secrecy."

"You mean being invisible."

A nod.

Luke's shoulders dropped. "I know; you're right." He took in her raised brows. "I promise," he placated, "it won't happen again."

"Good," she said with folded arms, "then tell me the real reason you want to come with."

Blast it; caught.

It was always best at this point to just level with her, which he did. "I want some time alone with the Imperial archives in the Palace."

The brows raised higher.

Luke didn't stop the determination from entering his face. "Ghost, my other leads on my father all dried up—"

He nodded at her surprised look.

"But, the Jedi," she began.

"Don't know anything," Luke cut in, his tone tainted by the frustration that had slipped through, he glanced away, "I already asked Kenobi and the others. They only know what the records already have told me. But…what if the Emperor's palace has other Intel? Even Link and Mouse can't find everything—"

Ghost snickered. "I won't tell them you said that."

Luke grinned again. "Thanks."

"And if the palace turns up empty too?"

Luke slouched against a pile of crates to his right. "Then at least I tried," he said, sounding tired.

Han deigned that moment to stomp in. "Kid," he said, "your two smart-mouths need you."

"Did I just hear you call someone else a smart-mouth, Han?"

Han exhaled hard through his nose.

"It's different when I do it," he flatly objected.

"Oh? Why?"

"Cause I said so," was the response as the smuggler turned and walked out.

Luke missed Ghost's relieved smile as he busted up laughing and turned to walk out behind Han; Ghost trailing silently behind.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Ghost didn't like it. Luke was becoming desperate.

She chewed the inside her cheek as they made for the Control Center, where Link and Mouse conjured most of their mayhem.

Luke had sought his parents for as long as Ghost could remember, and they'd met when Ghost was 11, five years ago, nearly six.

His mother was dead, and Ghost hated to ever say it, but it was safe to assume his father was too; but Luke didn't believe so. And that was that.

But there was nothing. At the end of the Clone Wars, all the Jedi had simply vanished from the galactic stage.

Vader had seen to it personally, in most cases.

Ghost mulled over whether or not she should point that out to Luke as they stepped into the CC and the hackers spun around in their chairs, each grinning like a naughty kid.

Not too far from the truth, she noted to herself.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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Link and Mouse wasted no time debriefing them gleefully on some possible shipyards that might be 'persuaded' to 'loan' them some ships that were under construction.

Luke shook his head. "Nope; we gotta think discreet. Are there any dumping grounds that we might pick some ships up from? Maybe they just need some upgrading and buff and shine?"

Link looked crestfallen; apparently he'd been looking forward to scheming how to get those brand new cruisers and such. Mouse though, he pulled out another data-pad and plunked the screen a bit.

"Hmmm, maybe," he said musingly and glanced at Link. "Oh, c'mon; don't pout," his face broke into a devious smirk, "just think of all the fun we can have upgrading these destroyers!" He showed the pad's screen to Link, who immediately brightened up.

"Oh, no," Han cut in, lifting his palms, "I'll do the upgrading."

Astonished faces lambasted him.

"Oh, give me a break!" Han exclaimed looking to Luke, "Kid, do you seriously want these two to upgrade those ships the way they 'upgraded' those blasters they lent me? Really!?"

"Oh, wait a minute," Link said, "those blasters were perfect"—

"Yeah, perfect catastrophes, they nearly roasted the lot of us!"

Mouse folded his arms. "We tested them under all conditions."

Link looked at him. "No we didn't; there's on condition we forgot."

"I knew it," Han grumbled, "what?"

Link's face was deapan. "You."

"Hey!"

"Now hold on," Mouse retorted, cutting them off, "did you punch in the codes we gave you?"

"Of course I did!"

"Then arranged the levers like I showed you?"

"Yes!"

"Then pulled back the safety arms and calibrated with the firing codes?"

"Uh- firing codes?"

"There's your 'defect'," Mouse told Link.

"You never said anything about calibration!" Han objected as Luke and Ghost passed each other unsurprised glances.

"Ya know boss," Link innocently said, "just a thought: I don't think in the future we should give Han any of our weapons."  
"They're clearly over his head," Mouse added.

Han opened his mouth, but Mouse added, "I mean look at his ship!"

"My ship's a work of art!" Han protested.

Warhead strode in just as Link and Mouse looked ready to launch a new series of jeers.

"Our spies on Hoth just sent word: the rebels are there and beginning the work of expanding the tunnels you found last month to create their base. The princess has been saying you should be back soon."

"Well," Han put in, stepping forward, "we don't wanna worry Her Worship." He turned to Luke. "Kid, you have fun at the Propaganda Gala; send me a holo-card. Chewie and me'll head over to Hoth and give Leia the good news."

Luke smirked and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm sure you will," he drawled.

"You mean if his ship can manage to get him there," Link remarked.

They all snickered as Warhead sighed and dragged Han out of the room before he could start a new argument over his ship.

"C'mon Solo; let's go," the captain said bluntly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke and Ghost boarded her cruiser, the _Ghostmist, _which had similar shape-altering panels as his skiff did. Luke didn't like it, but Ghost pointed out her ship hid its teeth better and could pass more convincingly as a 'luxury' vessel.

Luke sank into the copilot's seat, feeling as though he were missing an arm with Fade not there. Granted, Noc could pass as an exotic pet, his cybernetic components totally concealed from the naked eye. And, as no Imperial operative or agent had ever seen him, he'd be merely another 'toy' brought by a spoiled nobleman's son.

And…it would afford Noc no shortage of computer terminals to invade quietly while Luke and Ghost played the roles of snobby upper class elitists.

Ghost took the controls, taking in Luke's dejected expression as he patted Noc's head.

"Fade will be fine; stars know Han and the rebels need all the help they can get."

"I know; it just feels strange when she's not around," was the absent confession.

Ghost nodded. "Well, look on the bright side."

Luke gave her a bemused look.

"Soon you'll be in the glittering company of the Empire's finest," Ghost mock-dramatically replied, "you'll totally forget how much you miss her then."

Luke snorted. "You're right, all I'll be able to do think about then is how much I'd love someone to shoot me."

They both laughed as her ship left the docking bay, Link adjusting the bay's shields the let them out.

"Have a nice trip," Link said as they flew away, "bring us back something illegal!"

They all laughed as the Falcon pulled out of the bay beside theirs.

**XXXXXXXXX**

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Princess Leia Organa, still of Alderaan though now an exile from her own homeworld, tried to imagine this frozen wasteland as their rebel headquarters for the indeterminate future.

It still was hard to grasp, though it was about her hundredth attempt.

She blew out a breath, watching it fog as it wafted from her chilled face.

The soft crunching of snow announced someone coming up behind her.

"General Bel-Iblis," she guessed, not turning.

"Yes, Your Highness," was the grave reply. Garm was always somber, even with things were going their way.

"Does everyone know not to venture down the tunnels alone? We don't know what's in them yet."

She heard him nod, the thick cloth of his uniform scratching at the movement. "I've warned everyone. The records of this planet are sketchy at best. I won't deny young Luke found us quite the planet to call home for the time being. No Imperial drones will think to look for us here."

Leia nodded quietly, hearing the winds outside begin to howl; a storm was coming.

A gust blew fresh snow into the tunnel they were staring out of, winding around their ankles.

"They'll return soon, Your Highness. Young Solo and his cousin have never failed us."

Leia combed stray hair from her eyes, trying to not miss them so much.

But she did; they lost rebels every day, it was a tragic reality she'd come to accept…but Han and Luke, they were different.

Her stomach clenched with fresh anxiety. It was difficult to not worry over them, even knowing the truth about Luke.

A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. "We've got an hour or so before the storm hits; I'll tell the personnel to keep at it till then. We've widened half of the tunnels already, so we're at least ahead of schedule."

"Good," Leia said with relief, "I'll check on Riekien's progress on the snow speeders. I know they've had trouble adapting them tot the cold."

"Commander Darklighter's heading that up; I've heard he'll have them ready in a few days."

Leia nodded as Garm gave a shallow bow and strode away.

An aide seemed to come out of nowhere, panting roughly as he skidded to a halt near Leia.

"Pity's sake man, show some dignity in front of the princess!" Garm rebuffed, stopping the younger man by grabbing his upper sleeve.

"Sorry…General," he huffed between pants, "message…for princess. Ran…from…other side of…base…to find…her."

Garm sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm just glad Specter wasn't around this time," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"It's all right, General," Leia forestalled, keeping her tone light, "what is it?"

"Ship…coming to dock."

Leia waited.

"Said…was called…Falcon."

Leia's body went slack as an asteroid's worth of fear and nervousness was lifted.

"Han," she breathed.

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**A/N: **Well, kids, that's it for now! The Hoth base is here! Managed to work that in. So, please enjoy and leave some love: review! They really do make my day. And any questions you have, please shoot those my way too. And, many thanks to you who review but don't log in (I'd otherwise PM you a thanks like I do everyone else!) I just didn't want you to feel forgotten…you're not Till next time!


	10. Chapter 10: Victories

**A/N:** Hi all! So glad the last chapter go so much love! Well, my eldest bro was married last Saturday; totally fun wedding! And now that that's over, a good chunk of my schedule has been freed up, yay! But, I do want to warn everyone, I'm interviewing again Fri for a second job; if I get it, y'all know what that means: less Fanfiction time. Sorry! But I need the $$! College isn't paying for itself…not yet anyways! LOL.

Also, I did want to mention that visually, it occurred to me the other day that Ghost looks a lot like Juliet Landau. You all probably know her best from her role as 'Drusilla' on the TV: Buffy series. She did an outstanding job, in my humble opinion; but it hit me as I was putting together the last chapter that Landau has a lot of traits that I see in Ghost: the eerie eyes, the 'ghostly' alabaster skin, the lithe frame and how Landau carried herself as Dru hit me actually just today: very similar. I see Ghost as a reserved, old-soul, introspective kind of person, and when I see pics of Landau as Drusilla, there are facets of that which come through to me. I found several good pics, but want to list this one in particular for those of you who are not familiar with the actress: ww w. ich4po /2011_02_01_ar chi ve.h tml. It'll give you some notion of what I'm hitting at, I think. But, we've got a chapter to get to…so…onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.10— Victories _

All of Coruscant was decked out in its finest array as the eve before Empire Day arrived.

Luke's Life Day.

When the _Ghostmist _bolted out of hyperspace over Imperial Center, Luke's gaze drank in the extravagant display of destroyers of all classes swarming over Coruscant like Vermian wasps around their nest.

All of the Empire's best had been called home for the Gala it seemed.

Ghost's reaction was so minute only a fellow assassin would detect how her back and neck tensed up ever so slightly.

The more eyes there were, the harder it was to be invisible, after all.

"We'll be fine," Luke confidently told her, noting the nameplates of all the triangular behemoths milling around them.

Ghost frowned, reflexively transmitting the clearance codes to gain landing approval when a bored, monotone voice came over her comm. "I don't like it; you should have gone with Han."

Luke grinned, tallying off all of the possible targets around them. "Ghost," he said with mock delight, "you can't expect me to have missed this! I mean, look around us"—

Her lips pursed as she stared stonily out the viewport.

-"we are literally surrounded on all sides by possible 'allies'"—

"You mean targets for Link and Mouse to hack into"—

"Exactly. And I was supposed to sit at the _kid's table_ with Han?" Luke needled her with a raised brow. "I think not. How often do opportunities like this come around?"

"Sadly; once a year—for every year the Empire goes un-toppled."

Luke grimaced. "Touché," he dryly put in, "and that's why we're here: to do the toppling."

They descended into the atmosphere. It was clear and sunny around 500 Republica; her cruiser made a neat landing atop the floating strip.

"Please at least keep your head covered till we get the disguise on you," Ghost whispered fiercely as the ramp smoothly lowered and they strode out.

Bright golden light hit Luke's eyes and he blinked rapidly to adjust. "Don't worry; remember, according to the Empire, I don't exist anyways."

And it was true, his aunt and uncle had never recorded him with Tatooine's offices as a citizen, he'd never attended any legitimate school—and of course he never signed up to be drafted and somehow forgot to register to pay his taxes.

Nope; as far as Palpatine's regime was concerned, Luke did not exist.

But, the plus side was…no wanted posters bore his face.

Luke smiled. Such a pity, that.

Ghost rolled her eyes, no doubt guessing his line of thought. "Just please don't do anything to change that. Remember, you still have your 'Luke Solo' persona out there. That includes holo-pics."

"That was just for my alibi with the rebel leadership. They wouldn't 'hire' anyone who didn't exist after all. But, now that it's 'after the fact'...those documents mysteriously vanished." He grinned playfully at her and she met his eyes just long enough to groan in exasperation.

No loose ends that way. Luke was a great believer in efficiency.

Ghost exhaled sharply out her nose, shook her head as they stepped into the speeder-limo waiting for them. Ghost's driver tipped his hat to them as they boarded.

"To your apartments, my lady?"

"Please."

She gave Luke a warning look as the sleek black limo flew in the direction of 500 Republica.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

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However, Ghost's apartments were not at 500 Republica proper, but one of the buildings adjacent to it. She had let the rumor slip that her family was very private and as they lived an isolated lifestyle off Coruscant, 500 Republica's surveillance measures were simply too much for her alias' taste and so she deigned more secluded quarters.

The truth was it was less of a bother this way. 500 Republica was so overflowing with Imperial spy bugs, vid-surveillance tech, listening devices and such that Ghost would never be able to get any work done. Even with Link and Mouse constantly running scans to ensure her apartments were clean—and re-cleaning them when they weren't…it was simply too much hassle.

A spy had schedules to keep too; after all—and deadlines to meet.

So, the nearby building was still ridiculously upper-crust, with opulence to match the 500, but it was far less aggravation to keep it spy-free.

Ghost chuckled. Well, _Imperial _spy-free that is.

Ghost had her aides open up some chambers in the tall spire she called her home away from home while she stared out the wall of windows overlooking Coruscant's endless pinnacles.

Luke was getting settled in, her aides (agents allied to Solidarity) were helping him prepare to make his entrance into Imperial high society as her elitist cousin.

She mentally sifted through his cover-story one more time, in the hopes of it easing her mind.

She didn't approve his choice to accompany her, it was too reckless. But, she thought with a sigh, there was no dissuading Luke when he'd once he'd made a decision.

He was relentlessly stubborn; she fleetingly wondered which parent she had to thank for the continuous headaches that came with working with him.

At Imperial Court, she was Lady Prulivvé Dresheōnie, a well-bred young woman from the Outer Rim. Her small family donated absurd amounts of credits to Imperial charities and she personally dedicated immense amounts of her time and energy to championing the poor and needy, and so the Emperor and his agents left her alone, deeming her more a pacifist type.

However, even with her reputation for altruism, Palpatine had begun to delve into her background in search of possible betrayal, ergo this need for her cousin to make an appearance—to show Imperial…_solidarity_. After all, some in Court speculated that perhaps her family thought themselves above coming to Court; this would kill that rumor in the water.

She snickered.

"So, how do I look?" a voice asked humorously from behind her.

She pivoted on a heel and smartly turned. She smiled in spite of herself.

Luke was garbed, polished, preened and groomed to such a degree that even a casual glance would dub him an elitist.

"Good enough to shoot," was her deadpan praise.

Luke smirked. "Thank you so much," he quipped in return. He smoothed one of his sleeves. "You'd better get ready yourself. We don't want to be more than fashionably late." He grinned mischievously.

Ghost raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, don't worry; all your unsuspecting targets will still be there tonight."

Luke's grin widened. "They'd better be—if they know what's good for them."

He chuckled as she shook her head at him and made for her chambers.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Vader hated this day, the eve before Empire Day.

Tomorrow was the day he'd lost his Angel—and their son.

He held in the sigh as the _Avenger _came out of hyperspace over Coruscant.

A son; at least the Force had given him that, he had learned after nearly 18 years it had been a son buried with Padmé. He no longer meditated in the midnight hours whether he'd been denied a son or daughter—along with his wife.

Courtesy of the Jedi.

It had been years since his anger at Padmé had withered. He'd choked her on Mustafar, convinced she'd been unfaithful to him—with Kenobi. They'd been together so often after all, towards the end. And Padmé had lavished Obi-Wan with so much attention and affection.

It had made him wonder.

But, it was said hindsight was flawless, and Vader had little doubt of that truth. He'd come to realize, years later, that no, Padmé had been duped by the Jedi as much as he had. That she had shared in his blind trust of Kenobi; that she had not the slightest hint Obi-Wan had concealed himself in her skiff or that he'd used her to track Anakin to the volcanic world.

She'd never betrayed him—and he'd still killed her.

Vader's inner walls held back the ocean of misery that threatened to sweep over him, to crush and drown him.

There was no point; Anakin Skywalker had been destroyed by that pain, nearly 18 years ago.

It was the very reason Darth Vader lived now and Skywalker did not.

In the end, Anakin was proven the betrayer, not Padmé. She had been innocent, and he'd strangled her with the dark side, killing his love and the son they'd made together.

Tomorrow would have been his son's Life Day, had the child lived.

Vader could not keep the lancing pain tethered any longer. He heard the Lieutenant warily come up behind him.

"L..lord Vader, the captain would like to know if—"

The unfortunate youth clutched his throat suddenly and was lying motionless on the glossy floor a moment later.

Vader spun around after gesturing for the deck officers to take the body away.

"Inform the captain to have my shuttle prepared at once," he ordered another young officer as he briskly departed the bridge.

The terrified man bowed low and hurried away, not even verbally answering.

Vader didn't care.

All he knew was, if the Force had consigned him to suffer forever, then everyone around him would share his pain.

Forever.

He paid no mind to anyone around him as he entered the hanger area.

He rebuked himself for such careless behavior. Now that he was back on Coruscant, it was utmost important to keep his thoughts and emotions concealed.

He'd be near to the Emperor nearly always after all, and even after 18 years, the old man still reveled in every chance to torment him with his past.

The Sith possess no weakness after all—and regret was a weakness.

Grief was weakness.

And Sith were meant to be strength personified. The embodiment of power.

_There is no weakness where strength lies_, Vader reminded himself.

And so Vader forced his emotions back into their exile as he marched past the hanger staff and boarded his shuttle.

But, as they were coerced down again into the deepest fathoms of his soul, they whispered him a promise—

That they would be back.

It had been 18 years nearly after all—and still he'd failed to kill them.

Vader let out a weary sigh as he reached for the controls.

**XXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When the ramp lowered Leia was standing there with Generals Bel-Iblis and Riekien.

Han sighed; he'd've preferred it better if it were just Leia, but he told himself he could stand to play nice with the officers for a while.

Even if he hadn't been able to back on Carida.

Of course, Carida hadn't had Leia….

Han wondered if he would have forced himself to play the good little recruit had that blasted academy come complete with an Alderaanian princess.

When Leia happily greeted him and asked how 'things went' Han put those thoughts on the back-burner.

"Well, I tell ya Your Worship"—

Leia gave him 'that look,' which only made Han grin wide.

-"we did it; we got the super-ship!"

Instantly the hanger erupted into cheers and applause.

Leia rolled her eyes dramatically, while the Generals only snickered and shook their heads.

Chewie harned something behind Han—but it mostly was drowned out by the rebels all jumping around and hooting in glee.

"Okay! Okay! Chewie wants me to remind you he helped some."

Another harn, this one louder—and arguing.

"What!? I blew up that ship"—

"Hwoeiehehehehhhhwhwhwhwh"—

"Yeah; I know I said those blasters were defective…but that makes my point even more! I blew up that ship—and that other ship too—with defective hardware! Not Luke—me!"

"Hwhwhwhwhhhwaaahrrhwhwar!"

"I know it was the kid's plan, but"—

"Ah, Captain Solo, you're back," a voice called over the tumult.

All heads turned behind Leia, where Obi-Wan Kenobi came out from behind an X-wing, with Mace Windu beside him.

"Hey Solo! You remembered to blow up the ship and not yourself; my congrats."

Han only snorted as Biggs Darklighter came up behind the Jedi.

Han noticed that the hanger area had all died down, everyone stopped mid-cheer for the Jedi.

Han shook his head again. Some people's kids.

"Okay, what part of this are you people not getting here?" Han said, frustration rising. "We blew up the Empire's super-ship! It's kaput! Now let's quick standing around and start celebrating!"

The cheers reignited. Leia only laughed at Han's showboating as the young techs leapt around and hollered without restraint; their excitement quickly infecting and spreading to all the adjoining chambers, which of course had to come in and see what the rejoicing was about.

News flew through Hoth base that the Empire's new monstrosity—plus another unnamed ship—were obliterated, the rebels were all quickly cramming into the hanger to surround Han and Chewie, shaking hands, patting arms and each trying to out-shout the other to offer their congratulations.

Biggs stood beside Leia, watching with a deadpan, but not surprised look as the ecstasy of the moment finally overwhelmed the base and they lifted Han and Chewie onto their shoulders (only succeeding with Han), before making a procession to the dining hall to party the rest of the day that "the Solo's" had once again scored the rebellion an decisive victory.

Leia and Biggs trailed behind with the Generals and Jedi.

"My, but he's a modest one," Garm quipped under his breath.

Leia only chuckled. "We knew what he was like when we enlisted him," she amiably countered.

"The ship is no more, that is what matters most," Ben pointed out before anymore fuses could be lit. "Luke will be back soon then, no doubt."

Leia suddenly stopped, looking around with a pinched brow. Chewie noticed and came up to her, probably anticipating her need to have questions answered.

"Chewie, where is Luke? Why didn't he come back?"

Chewie gestured to the ceiling and made some sounds, making Leia wish that one of the languages she understood was Wookie-speak.

She didn't see Fade float up behind her.

_He will return soon, princess._

Leia jumped. "Oh! Fade! I didn't"—

"Princess," Ben softly admonished.

Leia quickly collected herself. That was right, only a small group of them knew she was anything more than a 'pet.'

She waved for Fade to rest in her arms, which she did. She couldn't be seen flying around, at least not by anyone other than them.

Han peeked his head in from the far corridor. "Hey! You all coming? The party's down here!"

Leia shared a look with Fade. "Yes, Han. We're coming."

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**A/N: **Ok, kids, that's it for now. I was gonna add a few more pages, but I feel bad cause it's been so long since uploading. So, here ya go! Please enjoy and review! Till next time.


	11. Chapter 11: Illusionists

**A/N: **Hello everyone! First off, I'm soooo sorry that it's been this long since my last update. Darth Real Life has been especially merciless. My one brother spent a week in the hospital and we nearly lost him; he had a terrible colon infection which wasn't diagnosed correctly at first and so that cost us valuable time in getting him well—which he still isn't; though he's out of the hospital now. Also, I ended up getting a new job! I was recruited by an agency and now am back to Square 1 in the training and all that. It's overall been a crazy rollercoaster ride with this and other things, but I think you get the idea. Anyhow, it's great to be back; so let's not delay: onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.11— Illusionists _

****"So, where _is_ Luke?" Leia asked, sitting beside Han.

The party was going well into the night; Mon and the rest of the leadership were only too happy to supply this 'much needed morale booster' after all of the stress of packing the Yavin base, moving everything first to Dantooine—one of Luke's more clever ideas; after all, he had rightly guessed the Empire would never expect them to 'double back' to an old base for the interim- and now the daunting task of adapting to this mercilessly harsh world.

Han grinned over a mouthful of bantha stew. "The kid? Well, we met up with some old buddies of his on the way back, some guys and an old lady friend of his. He decided to stay with them for a few days; but he'll be back."

Biggs watched the surprise—and jealousy?—flit across the princess's face as he sat across from Han—and how Han caught both and clearly enjoyed her reaction.

_Hmm, brooming Luke aside as possible competition, are we Han?_ He thought.

"Oh," Leia neutrally said at length, playing with her food, "so, are they…professional friends?"

Han twisted his lips and Biggs smirked. Oh, busted.

"Yes," he cut in before Han could try again, "I'm sure Han means Pru; Luke met her way back, she's a private contractor of sorts, really talented. They've had a business liaison going for some time now."

Han threw him a glower that Biggs only rolled his eyes at.

_Poor Han, wanting Leia's attention all for himself_, the pilot though wryly.

Leia sat on Han's right, Chewie on his left. He harned a question, which Han only shrugged at.

"Hey, what the kid does is his concern Chewie; I wasn't gonna stick around to hold his hand."

Biggs' insides twisted in warning. He'd assumed Luke was going to remain at _Solidarity_ for a while and hash things out with the team; so why did Han's words imply that wasn't the case?

He caught Han's gaze and looked at him in question; Han only offered a tiny, warning shake of the head.

Don't ask, at least not now, was what he was saying.

Leia, in Biggs' peripherals, looked up, feeling the sudden tension no doubt. He eyes passed between the two of them, but she said nothing.

"Well, I'm sure he'll be back soon," she casually—to casually—noted, watching their reactions carefully.

Biggs did nothing but look back down at his plate; Han stirred his already cooled stew.

Neither of them caught the meaningful expression she threw down at Fade, sitting on her lap.

Obi-Wan and Mace came up the next moment, each bearing a plate. Biggs waved them to his side, where two spots were open on his right.

Han took the cue and waved to them with his spoon. "C'mon join us; the party's right here."

Ben chuckled and Mace shook his head with a humored grin.

"It'd be a pleasure," Mace dryly avowed to Han's showboating.

Han shrugged dramatically. "Of course it would!"

Ben only shook his head with a tolerant grin as he and Mace sat down.

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Ghost stood before the full-length gilt mirror as her fellow agents (aka her 'handmaidens') put the finishing touches on her gown while another pinned up her hair in lavish curls, fastening them with ornate jeweled clips.

Her garb was perfect for this season; the fuller, rippled sleeves had made a come-back, and the tiered, shaped skirts were in again. Of course she had noticed the sweet-heart necklines were about to recapture the scene, so she was being preemptive by having this silver-azure dress refitted with one; just as any fashionable noblewoman of her status would.

An airtight cover.

At least it will be, so long as Luke didn't jeopardize their mission with any rash moves.

Ghost held in a sigh as her 'servants' completed their work and one went to fetch her wrap as the others put away her makeup and styling utensils.

She quietly moved to the wall of windows to afford them more room and let her thoughts be carried away as she half-listened to the clanking of equipment and the opening and shutting of drawers.

The fact was, she could see despair growing in her 'cousin.' Luke tried to hide it, but everyone knew on some level his parents were the driving force of not only _Solidarity_, but everything he did. Every mission he'd scour for clues of not only his father's location, but the true cause of his mother's death. None of them believed it was the Jedi; ergo the exact reason for Padme Amidala's passing was a mystery. For a long time Luke had believed she simply perished from child-birth, until Fade assured him the Force had revealed to her that it was not so.

Needless to say knowing his birth hadn't killed his mother had brought Luke immeasurable relief; as for many years he'd struggled with the 'what if' of his possibly killing her—at least until Fade's vision.

Unfortunately, Fade's revelation had not included the true source; only that it had not been Luke. When Luke had pressed her, Fade had simply told him the Force did not want him to be tormented with the belief that his birth had cost his mother her life.

When Luke had bitterly asked why then the Force seemed okay with his being tormented though over his father's whereabouts and his mother's true cause of death, Fade had very gently informed him the Force took no pleasure in any pain, but it had a reason for all it revealed—and concealed.

Luke had stayed alone for many days after that conversation—struggling to cope, Ghost knew.

The difficulty was coaxing him to confide in them was such an ordeal. Luke was so obsessively secretive, he at times forgot it was unnecessary with his friends.

He knew they wanted to help him; and yet he still kept them at arm's length.

Ghost repressed a sigh as one of the girls helped her don her lavish silk wrap and another handed her a beaded purslet.

The quandary was, she was all too aware as a fellow assassin what compelled him to recoil: the assassins' code. It made canvased warnings from start to finish of emotions, of emotional ties—

_It forbade attachments; much like the Jedi Code of old_, Ghost mused. And the reason was also the same: both societies saw attachment as a breach in the armor; the beginning of the end.

However, assassins took it one step further, forbidding any emotion at all: compassion, empathy, even anger and hate. Assassins saw their work as emotionless; efficiency and expertise was their path, emotion was only an obstruction, a distraction. They didn't hone anger as the Sith did; anger clouded clarity to their kind.

Knowing one's self was the first step for an assassin; knowing one's target as well as one's self was the second.

And knowing know emotion was a facet of both.

But Luke, much like Han, played with fire and tempted fate. Ghost chewed her lip in worry.

But, worry was an emotion too; ergo she also danced beside the flame.

But not nearly to the extent that the other two did.

She had no family; she had let of her past long ago, for her good and Luke's. She had vague recollections of a father being dragged away by the Empire, a kindly faced man that she could almost see, and the screams of a woman who she assumed had been her mother, but nothing more.

No; she was Ghost now, Assassin of _Solidarity_ and ally of the Specter. Her family was them. The past was no more, and whoever she had been then, whatever her birth name was, she had no inkling.

What she did know was, if she, Luke and their team failed, there would be more like them: people lost, without a past, if they didn't overthrow the Empire.

Her pale eyes narrowed.

Speaking of which, where was Luke?

She waved a fellow agent over, and quietly asked. Another re-smoothed the curls of her long hair while the first sought him out.

When she returned, her face was pale.

Not a good sign, considering she was a trained killer as well.

"What is it, Amilee?"

Amilee handed her a note. "It's from Specter, my lady."

Ghost opened the flimsy and scanned through it.

She saw red a second later. She handed the note back to the first. "Please, tell me I didn't just read that," she said in a low, deathly voice.

Amilee shook her head. "I wish I could; but it's true. He's gone to the Jedi Temple."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

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Luke strode in the group as they drew near to the fabled Jedi Temple—now the Sith headquarters from what Link and Mouse had uncovered as well as the thick shroud of evil that festered in a putrid veil all over the Temple.

Luke resisted the urge to gag, instead mulling over his plan one more time.

Upon finishing his disguise and 'clearing' his façade with Ghost, he'd plunged into the Holo-net to uncover some discreet ways to move around Coruscant and get close to vital Intel.

There were no 'discreet' ways, per se, that he'd come across, he'd discovered instead that a select group of elitists who'd "made a donation to cleared Imperial charities" (aka a bribe), had been permission to enjoy an almost-unheard-of tour of the Jedi Temple, well, how could he pass that up?

So, after he'd "made a donation" (which he'd have Link and Mouse withdrawal later on) himself, he put on a cloak and had Ghost's driver take him to the Temple.

Link and Mouse's "papers" for him were easily cleared by the Imperial tour guide, who once he pulled up Luke's cover identity, just about fell over in shock. He stammered a greeting to Luke and thanked him for joining them "on such short notice," but assured Luke it was hardly an inconvenience and he was delighted Luke could come.

And so he and a group of a dozen or so, approached the great double doors, and Luke silently wished Fade had come after all—because he was so tempted to reach out with the Force.

Noc nudged his head with his hard beak. Luke glanced to his shoulder where the bird sat.

Noc's one eye was slick with knowing. He gave a tiny head shake.

_Don't even think about it_, he seemed to warn.

Luke pursed his lips, acquiescing. But it wasn't easy.

There was no telling just how much time his father had spent in the Temple; for years Luke hadn't dared venture here for fear of discovery. But now, he could feel the walls closing in, crushing him on all sides.

Time was running out; and options. He had to find his father, and soon.

And so, he'd dared it now: coming here. The massive, heavy doors slid open for them soundlessly and Luke stepped forward.

The smell of death was everywhere. And then Luke saw them:

The bodies.

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When her driver returned, Ghost restrained her fury.

It wasn't the man's fault; he didn't know 'the lady's cousin' was forbidden to go anywhere without her knowing. Firstly, that would be hard to explain to the chauffer.

Secondly, she couldn't exactly prohibit Luke; he'd never go for it.

But still; what was he thinking!?

Ghost sighed; the fact was, he wasn't thinking. It was that simple.

"Take me to the Temple," she evenly told him, and seated herself into the back seat of the limo. The driver blinked at her non-chalant attitude, but bowed and hurried towards the driver's seat.

Ghost smoothed her gown to settle her shaky hands.

_Luke had better be alive when she got to the Temple, _she angrily told herself, _or she'd kill him_.

**XXXXXXXXX**

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Luke froze mid-step as they were ushered into large, polished threshold.

They were everywhere; phantasms of dead Jedi: men, women, aliens—

Children.

There was little blood, most of them were either blasted, but Luke's stomach twisted when he realized some of them had been executed another way:

Lightsaber.

He recognized the cauterized slashes of a lightsaber blade.

Boba Fett used one occasionally, after all.

As the tour guide gestured overhead and began his litany of the architectural design and some very propaganda-enhanced 'history' of the Temple, Luke shrank to the back of the group. None of the other elitists paid him any mind, he knew how to vanish even without using the Force.

They moved slowly from the threshold near a very grand staircase that ascended to the next level where Luke spied several training chambers, meditation rooms and study niches. He glanced around him.

The dead were everywhere, hanging over railings, sprawled on the staircase…but it wasn't just Jedi.

There were dead clone troopers as well; their bodies more washed out than the Jedi, the Jedi translucent but still colored more so than the clones.

There had been a battle; Luke could sense even without reaching for the Force that the troopers and Jedi had fought—but as opponents.

Why? Luke knew the official story: the Jedi had attempted to overthrow the Republic and so the then Supreme Chancellor had sent the clone troopers to 'stop them.'

No, Luke knew what assassination looked like and this was it: they'd been assassinated before they could rise up against the Sith who became Emperor.

But…there had been no record of Palpatine coming to the Temple himself. Dooku had been killed—by Luke's father no less—and Vader hadn't made the scene yet.

So, who had murdered the Jedi by lightsaber?

Link and Mouse hadn't been able to uncover it, the Jedi Temple holo-vids had all been taken and probably destroyed long before the pair old enough to hack anything. And there were no copies.

The Jedi had been a painfully secretive society. It had in part played a role in their downfall.

It's hard for a galaxy to trust in a people whose entire lives are wrapped up in rumor and mystery, especially at wartime. Palpatine had known that and had easily played it to advantage, using that mystery to convince a stressed, fractured and fatigued galaxy that their generals had been plotting to use the war as a means to take over.

It had been easy for them to believe, in the end. Palpatine had been viewed by all as the beloved leader striving against all odds to keep the galaxy intact.

No one really knew what the Jedi had been doing after all; they'd been at the warfront—

Or the Temple: the sight of the supposed coup—which Palpatine had 'thankfully' been able to thwart.

It was nearly two decades before the galaxy began to realize Palpatine had played them all for fools.

And so many still either didn't care, or knew and cared, but were too fearful to act.

And billions more still had not the slightest inkling.

Luke stared down at the body of a small boy, no older than six, and wondered if his father had survived this.

He stilled as a thought occurred to him: if his father had been killed, his body would be here, among the fallen. Luke only let his head move as he glimpsed the tour begin to move away.

He'd have to search every single body, and that would take a full sweep of the Temple—more than any tour would allow.

Oh well; he'd have his own private tour then.

He quietly ducked behind a pillar and waited for the group to walk on. And then he spotted the little side room—complete with terminal.

He grinned. _Hello, opportunity_.

He slipped into the chamber and let Noc plug in.

"Have a good time, Noc," he whispered with a grin, "I'll bring you back a souvenir."

**XXXXXXXXXX**

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"Boss, are you there?"

Luke flinched out of his reverie, and murmured a reply, "Yeah. What's going on?"

"Well," Link replied, "we've got some good news."

Luke held back the sigh. "I could use some."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing; you have a report?"

"Yep!" Mouse. "We've already found some vulnerable Hutt accounts that we're…tapping into now. It should give us at least 10 billion credits, easy; probably more."

"Good."

"Uh huh!" was the exuberant response. "But, that's not the best part."

"And the best part is…?"

"We've found some Imperial records about a lost set of ships—a whole fleet of them!"

"And why is that a good thing?"

"C'mon boss!" Mouse sputtered over what was probably a sandwich. "A lost _fleet_ of ships? How can it get any better than that?"

"Umm, if they weren't lost?"

Luke could practically hear Link's head shake. "Boss, we're gonna find this fleet. We've got enough clues to make it work. And if you promise us you won't get Solo involved; I'm sure there'll be no problems."

Luke snickered, in spite of himself. "I promise. What's this fleet called?"

"The Katana Fleet."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

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As Link gave Luke an overview of why the fleet was made, how it became lost and so forth, Luke was only half-listening. Frankly, he didn't care about the details just so long as Link and Mouse could in fact find this fleet and get them functional again.

Details didn't matter; results did.

As Link completed his exposé and overviewed the next step of refurbishing and what they've gotten ready on that front so far, Luke stared out the window he stood before.

After his thorough search of the Jedi Temple, Luke found himself in the Council's meeting chamber—where a group of young children had come to hide from the troops.

Whoever the Jedi had been, he'd found them here—and killed every one of them.

Not a single child bore a blaster wound; they were all cut down by a lightsaber.

A sudden pain stabbed into Luke's head. "That sounds great guys," he cut in, "I'll let you get back to it, there are some things here I need to do."

"Uh, oh; okay boss, we'll be in touch," Mouse sounded hurt.

"Thanks; call me later."

And the contact ended.

Luke sighed. Evening was falling and the elitist party would begin soon. Ghost was probably already at the Palace, sifting for information so flawlessly that her tracks would never be uncovered.

Because she wouldn't leave any.

Luke wasn't ready for it yet. He needed time to come to terms with what he'd seen.

For all the bodies scattered across the Temple, none of them had been his father.

But nonetheless, his father had been here that fateful night.

Luke was certain of it. He had sensed his father's presence, burning like lava but black with despair cutting through the very air around him like acid.

His father had been lost that night, frantic in an ocean of pain, anger and borderline hysteria.

Luke had glimpsed peaks of his father fighting, flickers of his phantom-image here and there, though never clear enough to see who he had been battling.

Luke sighed. He plunged the depths of the Force then, trusting to the fact that Link and Mouse had augmented all his new disguises with upgraded Force-concealment tech.

Without Fade around, it was the next best thing.

The logical reason was his father was watching the Order he'd pledged himself to falling apart before his eyes. That would put anyone into a panic-stricken state; Jedi or not.

But Luke had felt another dimension. He'd picked up traces in his father of losing 'her.'

Her, her, her, her, her. It repeated in his father's mind like a tortured mantra, clawing at his senses, making his father fanatical with determination.

But, who was 'her.' Had it been his mother? Had his father, for some reason, feared losing her?

It was wartime; but while a Senator should have been safe, Coruscant had been attacked, and breached. Though now it was clear that had all been a ruse of Palpatine's, a way to get rid of Dooku. It was hardly a coincidence that a few weeks after Dooku's death Vader made his first appearance on a star destroyer.

Luke froze. No; that wasn't true, he had also felt tiny hints of Vader's presence someplace else:

Here; in the Temple. Always very near to his father.

Luke cringed. There was no doubt now that his father and Vader had both been in the Temple that night. He wouldn't chance delving more into the Force to clarify his visions; he hadn't seen Vader after all, but the Sith had been there.

He could hear the Force whispering it to him, near places where he'd seen his father battle…some adversary unknown.

Had it been Vader?

Luke wrapped his arms around his thin waist as a chill gnawed through him. He didn't want to assume the worst, he hadn't seen his father's body, after all, nor had he felt the impression of his father's death.

He clung to the hope that it meant his father had somehow survived, had escaped Vader. But still….

There was another possibility: Vader had captured him, not slain him. After all, the Hero With No Fear would make quite an Imperial prize. And it was no secret—at least in Luke's part of the galaxy—that many Jedi had been taken and experimented on after the wars.

Per the Emperor's command, no less.

There had been rumors, in the underworld, that Palpatine was seeking a means to make himself immortal, to conquer the final adversary: death.

Luke let his brow lean against the cool transparisteel windows. Why? Why had nothing lead to any solid—

And then he jolted upright, cursing himself for being so careless. How had the man come so close without Luke's sensing?

He spun around to see someone had entered the chamber and was standing opposite him, his lightsaber drawn.

Vader.

**XXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luke wondered again how it was the Sith Lord had drawn so close undetected.

It didn't matter in any case as the other stepped closer, but Luke still wondered.

"What are you doing here?" the rumbling voice demanded, testing the weight of his weapon.

In stark contrast to his menacing voice, his gesture with the saber seemed quite casual.

Luke supposed it would be, with a kill-tally as mind-bogglingly high as Vader's.

"I was with the tour," Luke softly, non-threateningly said, not moving even an iota.

He couldn't blow his cover; he was the 'son' of some unnamed elitist now, not an assassin.

Most definitely not the Specter. One aggressive pose and Vader would know.

Vader took two more steps. "Yes, I met the former tour-guide on my way in."

His tone was too indifferent. And "former" tour guide? That only meant one thing.

"He's dead," Luke whispered, backing up against the glass.

"As are four of those fools who came in with him."

Luke gaped in spite of himself. A helpless tour guide and some harmless snobs? "But…why?"

And invisible talons seized his throat. Luke crumbled to the floor as he felt other unseen claws grab his heart and stop its beating.

Spots danced before his eyes.

"Because, boy," the dark lord spat, "the Temple is _mine_. And I gave no permission for perfumed elitists to prance through it as though it were some common diversion."

Luke could feel the anger saturating each of Vader's words as a single link in some spectral chain wrapped around his neck.

Whatever it was dug deeper. Luke could go for a long time without air, but he wondered how long he'd last with no heartbeat.

There was no choice. He had to summon the Force and fight back.

But then he heard a girl gasping and the talons were gone. His vision, now bleary, turned to the doorway.

Ghost stood there, one hand over her mouth in dismay—

The other reaching for the hidden weapon concealed in her sash.

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**A/N: **Well, I hope you guys like! I made it extra-long because of the long break between chapters! Plz R the author loves love! LOL; till next time friends.


	12. Chapter 12: Portents

**A/N: **Hello all! I'm sooo glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I did get cut off before I wanted to finish Ch. 11 though; had errands to run and all that. So, I'm gonna upload one more today! Hope you like Till next time; onward!

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_SW Ep. V: Jedi Assassin Ch.12— Portents _

When Vader arrived at Imperial Center, intuition told him to visit the Jedi Temple; that something was amiss.

Upon entering through the immense double doors, Vader at once sensed the lackey tour guide and the group of simpletons he'd finagled into paying an absurd amount of credits to tour Vader's Temple.

Because it was _his_: not the Empire's; not Palpatine's despite what the old man might believe.

No; Vader had cleansed it himself of all the Jedi, had gone back later and destroyed all pointless data tracks, security recordings and so on himself—and had found and deactivated Obi-Wan's pathetic relay signal to warn away fellow Jedi.

He'd claimed it; the Temple was his—and it was most certainly not open to random elitist gawkers.

And so when he'd ordered and explanation from the mewling tour guide, he'd stammered something about the Emperor consenting to this 'new endeavor,' and Vader had run him through.

The gawkers sensible enough to run away screaming he'd let go, but those who froze in fear he cut down as well.

He had then reached out through the remainder of his Temple, seeking any strays. With it being the eve of Empire Day, most of the Sith Inquisitors and such were either on missions or at the Imperial Palace. The Temple was all but deserted.

Except then he felt the sole presence left in the Temple: the boy.

He was in the Council chamber, where so much of Vader's life (before it was even Vader's life) had been molded and decided; he'd been rejected there so many times by the other Jedi.

But once or twice they had shown acceptance—once or twice.

However, Yoda, Windu and the others had made it clear early on he was not welcome; that he'd never be one of them.

Only his Angel had ever accepted him unconditionally.

Ultimately everything he'd ever done was for her—even killing the children in that very chamber. Their lives had been sacrificed to save hers.

That made the Council chamber sacred ground.

And that whelp was _trespassing_.

Vader marched there instantly, his breathing heavy with resurging anger.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

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Vader halted in the already open doorway, spying the trespasser opposite him—

Taking in the view.

Vader hoped he enjoyed it; it would be his last.

The dark lord was thrown off though, when the boy didn't immediately hear his breathing and turn around.

Even with the lenses changed to full color, Vader saw red. This insufferable boy trod through a hollowed place to take in the ambiance, and was so lost in his thoughts that he—

Finally, the child heard him, spinning around and jolting.

"What are you doing here?" Vader ground out, at length realizing his saber was still drawn.

Unnecessary; he'd simply crush the brat's throat. It looked slender enough.

In fact, the boy was surprisingly small. Vader wondered how someone so high born looked as though he didn't regularly eat, only to question after that why he'd care either way.

He didn't; it was that simple.

The boy was on the ground gasping for air a second later, Vader informing him in no uncertain terms of his foolishness.

It was strange though, Vader mused as he watched the boy slowly perish; the child had seemed so horrified that Vader had killed the guide and four of the 'guests.'

Where had his concern for his own safety been? Surely he hadn't been so foolish to think his rank would protect him.

It hadn't them, after all.

A gasp from the doorway riveted Vader back to himself. He turned, releasing the boy to pitch forward, gulping in air.

The newcomer was a girl, apparently a year or so younger than the boy. It took no imagination to perceive they were related; they had the same raven hair, pale skin and slight figures. And while Vader had glimpsed lime green eyes in the boy, the girl staring at him now did so with wide aqua.

Still, the chins and cheekbones were similar, as were the slender limbs.

Vader's eyes narrowed when she sank into a deep curtsy. "Lord Vader," she quietly, humbly acknowledged before carefully rising and making her way to the boy.

Vader watched, caught off guard just enough to be intrigued as she hastened to her relation, crouching down beside him even though it would rumple that very expensive new gown, and whisper rebukes to him as she helped him wrap an arm over her shoulders.

Hmm, strange behavior for a pampered courtier.

Of course, he'd married a woman who had also been considered 'strange' for a Senator.

"Luke," the girl hissed under breath, "what were you thinking?"

Luke.

Vader's lips parted in amazement, as he was catapulted back almost 18 years.

**XXXXXXXX**

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_It was evening, Anakin had been able to sneak to Padme's apartments after another agonizing day at the Jedi Temple. _

_He didn't know how much longer he could stand their condescension, and Obi-Wan's false promises that 'you'll be made master before you know it, Anakin.'_

_Anakin wasn't fooled. He'd be used up, and when the war was over and the Jedi had no more use for him, he'd be expelled._

_There was no longer any denying it; the way Master Windu scowled at him distrustfully was enough to convince him._

_Spending the night with Padme would help keep him sane._

_They'd curled up on the sofa together and ate dinner pot-luck style. Padme seemed to sense that Anakin needed cuddling, not fine dinnerware, and so they'd curled up together and fed each other the courses._

_Padme brought up baby names._

"_I thought you want to be surprised," Anakin said, offering her a spoonful of some berry mousse, "let's worry about names after the baby comes."_

"_I do want to be surprised," Padme softly admitted, "and we don't have to absolutely decide; but let's at least have a few ideas?" _

_Her voice had been so gently pleading that Anakin could only nod concession, which of course made her smile—_

_That dazzling, hypnotic smile that made him want to always agree with her; no matter what._

"_I still think it's a girl," Anakin said after Padme took the proffered bite, "if it is, I want to name her after mother."_

_Padme stroked her belly. "Oh, of course we should," she said, her tone and face nothing but empathetic, "Shmi would like that."_

_Anakin twisted his lips, soaking in the flickers of the fireplace. "But you don't think it's a girl."_

_Padme grinned and shook her head. "I'm certain it's a boy; call it a mother's intuition."_

"_And if it is; should we name him Anakin?" he mock-innocently asked._

_Padme pulled out a pillow and hit him teasingly with it; so of course Anakin played up how painful it was, dramatizing her 'hitting his war wounds,' which Padmé quipped he shouldn't joke about._

_They'd agreed to not discuss the war when together at all; their time was just that: _their_ time._

"_What do you want to name him?" Anakin said, more soberly, when they settled back in._

_Padme leaned more into him. "I want to name him Luke."_

**XXXXXXXX**

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When the girl helped the other hoist himself to lean against her, she turned to Vader.

Her immense eyes pulled him back to reality.

He didn't understand why, but something about the girl reminded him of Padmé.

Her new gown was full of wrinkles, but she didn't seem to notice.

Under the circumstances, Padmé wouldn't have either.

"I must apologize for my cousin," the girl said at length, her face etched with genuine penitence, "you see, it's his first time ever on Coruscant. I'm afraid he has no sense of what places are allowed and which are not. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm."

Vader looked at her tiny frame, brimming with courage. But those large eyes he'd seen before.

But where?

And then it hit him.

"You are the Lady Dresheōnie," he surmised, "the charity-giver."

She nodded somberly. "The Emperor had inquired during my last visit when any of my relations were coming to Court. I assured him my cousin would arrive for the Gala. This is my fault. I didn't warn him to not venture out without me."

Vader reigned in what was left of his anger. It made sense now, why the boy had been so diverted, Vader recalled all too well his own feelings of overwhelmed awe when he saw Coruscant for the first time.

He let out a long breath, no longer filled with a need for blood, for revenge. There was hardly a need to avenge himself against a wayward child who had wandered off without his more sensible cousin.

Before Vader could order the lady to show herself and naïve cousin out, and Inquisitor marched in, totally ignoring the two youths.

"Lord Vader, the Emperor commands your presence," he tonelessly said.

Vader nodded, and waved the girl out. She had wisdom enough to not delay, pulling her cousin along and chiding him harshly under her breath.

The boy met Vader's gaze before disappearing beyond the doors.

Up close, Vader couldn't stop the sensation of deja vu that crawled through him.

Where had he seen that gaze before? Those eyes; he knew them.

But where?

Vader filed the thought into the back of his mind as he exited, heading for the tunnels that connected the Temple to the Emperor's Palace.

**XXXXXXXX**

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Ghost didn't say anything until they were back in her apartment's living quarters. She plopped down on the elegant ivory sofa facing the wall of windows, letting Luke lean against the two-seater adjacent to it, regaining his sense of balance.

Noc had been waiting for them, having snuck out after going through all of the Temple's databases. What he found had shocked them on two levels—jostling Luke back to himself.

He sat on the low table before them now, a datapad propped on it near enough to Luke and Ghost that they could read it as he wirelessly transmitted his own dialogue to it.

She and Luke had gone through the data, amazed at how much Sith Intel Noc had been able to retrieve, undetected of course. It was such a coup Ghost almost forgot her angst at Luke.

Almost.

The Jedi would make valuable use of such a rich trove. As would Link and Mouse in creating weapons capable of effectively fighting the Sith—now that they had such incredible material to go on.

The other half of Noc's report was what had jarred Luke back to reality—only to send him sinking into silence as he leaned forward, bracing his hands against the two-seater's back.

Ghost could feel his depression. "Luke, you should be happy; think of what this will mean for the Jedi; for the rebellion—for the galaxy. The Sith have been a _secret_ cult for centuries. Now a good chunk of their secrets are out; this will deal them a crippling blow. And it's thanks to you and Noc."

Luke shook his head. "I know—and it's all Noc; all I did was attract Vader's notice. Noc could have snuck in without me."

"And get caught, you were the distraction."

"Me and four tourists, and the guide."

"COMPOR Ok'd the tours; they just didn't bother to tell Vader that—or get his permission it seems. That's on their heads, not yours."

Not that that made it all right.

Luke said nothing.

Ghost sighed. "Luke," she said, leaning towards him, "of course the Empire erased most of the Temple records. Link and Mouse got the DNA listings because the Empire still needs them; it's how they hunt Force sensitive families. But, the security recordings? They couldn't chance those leaking out. Think of what would happen if those vids still existed on got on the Holo-net: clone troops shooting down kids? The propaganda department would have a hard time explaining that away."

Luke nodded. "I know." He said nothing more though as he straightened and headed for his chambers. He turned and glanced at them. "Good work Noc, as always." His eyes fastened onto Ghost then. "You should go to the Eve gathering. I think I've had enough for one day."

And he was gone.

Ghost let out a breath as Noc clanked his beak at her. His eyes told all.

"I know Noc; I'm worried about him too."

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Ghost did end up going to the Eve celebrations; in the end, she was always practical and realistic. Many Imperial officers and such traded off, going to the Eve gatherings one year and then the Gala itself the next; it was procedural rotation.

Only the very highest ranks enjoyed both.

Ergo Ghost had to attend both if she wanted to sift all the fish in the Imperial Sea.

Luke sat on his bed, holding the data pad.

It had all been for nothing; Noc's search only revealed that someone in the Empire had all the recordings from the clone wars destroyed.

No copies, no hidden records.

Nothing.

Noc could only hack what existed. Obliterated records could not be extracted.

Luke sighed.

So, he knew that his father had been alive that night, had fought in the same battle as Vader…but nothing beyond.

"Boss, you there?"

Luke straightened. "Yeah; what's the latest?"

"Well," Mouse said, "we've got SAche leading a team to find the Katana Fleet. We've got some good guesstimates to work with. How are things there?"

Luke sighed, rubbing his brow.

"That great huh?" Link. "What happened?"

Luke gave them a quick synopsis.

"Wow, and you're still alive?" Mouse said incredulously.

"I do recall saying Vader didn't kill me."

"No, I didn't mean Vader; I meant Ghost. She didn't kill you."

"She probably will after the party tonight."

"You're probably right there, boss."

Luke scrolled through the data pad again. "I'm running out of options," he said dourly to no one in particular.

"You've still got one option left boss," Link put in dryly, "and you've got the perfect cover for it tonight too."

Luke perked up, wanting to hit himself over the head with the pad.

Of course. The Imperial Palace.

Ghost was already there; but she'd be focused on finding Imperial weaknesses, not Intel on Anakin Skywalker.

Moreover, Luke wouldn't have to do it, he'd just have someone else—more adept.

He rose, walking quickly into the living quarters. "You guys are the best. I'll be sure to let you two have at the Palace's databases too if you want."

"Nah, that's okay boss," Mouse countered good-naturedly, "we've still got some Hutt credits calling our names."

The pair snickered.

"Yeah, and then we have some shopping to do," Link added, all business-like, "we found this great half-off sale on Carida's black market. We're gonna check it out."

Luke shrugged to himself in agreement. "Oh? Half price merch? Sounds good."

"Oh, no," Link corrected, "half off sale as in: it's only half as illegal!"

The hackers busted up before Luke heard the sounds of food canisters being opened.

Noc looked up inquisitively as Luke stretched out an arm to him.

"Noc, c'mon; we're going to a party."

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Han loved his ship, even when he hated his ship.

He tapped the hydro-spanner against the rim of the squared off opening leading to a well filled with circuits and wires that powered the _Falcon_'s absurdly fast engines—

Absurdly fast…when they worked.

The comm next to him beeped. He reached for it, while trying to remember why he felt the need to install seven circuit boards when five would have been enough.

He was sure he'd had a good reason, whatever it was; whenever it was.

Ships and women; why did they have to be so difficult?!

"Solo here."

"Hey Han," Link's too cheerful voice came over, "Spek just asked us to check in on you while he's on vacation. So, we're checking in; how are you?"

Han blinked. "Vacation? I thought the kid was—" but then he stopped, realizing.

Oh, that kind of vacation; of course.

"So," Han quipped instead, "he is bringing us back all souvenirs, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Mouse returned, "Spek's spending a veritable fortune on you."

"Really?" Han asked, thrown, "I don't expect the kid to—"

"No, no, you'll love it Han," Link assured him, "he's buying you your own library."

Han made a face. "My own library? I don't read enough to—"

"Yeah," Mouse added, "of every self-help book ever published!"

Roars of laughter came over the comm.

Han shook his head; it was his own fault.

He'd walked into that one.

"Okay, so are you two calling for any actual reason, cause me and my ship—"

"Need some time alone, yes we know," Link snarked, "how are things there? Spek wanted us to ask if you need more supplies and how you are."

Han sighed gruffly. "I'm just fine. You see, I'm only not just fine when on a mission with the kid. Then I get shot at and blown up. But, when I'm not around the kid; well, all I've done today is eat, work on my ship and spend time with L—"

Damn. Him and his big mouth.

"Uh, is it the princess maybe?" Mouse said with a dramatic, longing sigh.

"Oh, Hannie and the princess," Link said with a mock sigh, "so romantic."

"Yeah, if you go for those 'they have no chance of working out' relationships," Mouse remarked.

"Uh, but Han, have you told your ship that it's over between you and her, I mean, it's only fair right?" Link pointed out somberly.

Mouse laughed. "Don't bother; once the princess has another head injury she'll wake up and realize what she's doing; then Han'll go back to his wreck of a ship and ask to be taken back!"

Chewie had come in and was listening to the commentary over the comm the other side of Han. The smuggler shook his head.

"Being cooped up on a station does things to ya Chewie," he observed, arms folded.

Chewie harned in agreement.

"We heard that!" Link and Mouse said together.

Han leaned towards the comm. "Good; now listen to this. Some of us have work to do, so tell the kid to quit worrying about me and just get back here fast, from wherever he is."

Chewie harned again.

"Good point, Chewie. Where is the kid anyways?"

"Uhhhhhh," Link began.

"Yeah, what he said," Mouse put in.

Han groaned. "There huh?" he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. "Great."

'Uhhhhhh' could only mean Imperial Center.

Han massaged his temples. "Things here are fine; send the usual supplies—maybe with additional bacta; we always need more of that. Tell the kid he'd better get back here in one piece and to try and place nice with Vader while he's on Imperial Center. Okay?"

Chewie got up to fetch more tools.

"Righto," Link said, more serious now, "and do us a favor and don't blow up with your ship or anything. I'm not going to be the one to tell the boss you cross your wires, well more than usual anyways, and blew yourself up with that wreck."

"I've already told you: my ship is a work of art," Han countered, lifting up the spanner in objection.

Han caught the hackers about to launch a new series of barbs, but then Warhead's voice came in the background, cutting them off.

"Ugh," Mouse said, "duty calls; stay in one piece Solo."

And the transmission cut.

Han sighed and shook his head, rising and stretching his back.

He turned to towards the galley, but froze in his tracks.

General Bel-Iblis was standing in the corridor—

Which meant he'd heard everything.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N: **Well, that's it for now! Thanks for reading!


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